Death Whispers
by Elysia1
Summary: COMPLETE: A black folder is found in the Department of Mysteries and the Wizarding World is on edge as to what it contains. One man knows. The potions master of Hogwarts Dungeons recognises it, it is his past and he will do anything to destroy it.
1. Prologue

**Author notes**  
I would like to thank everyone who has helped me with this project, betas and reviewers alike. Of course I have to thank Jennifer who beta'd practically the entire thing but there were others Kari, Heather, Catherine and more that I have lost in the reposting but have not forgotten. I also have to thank Textual Sphinx who's one shot "A Letter from Exile" was drawn upon in Chapter Six, it is a great story and my chapters resemblance is humble hero worship.

I have to note, sadly, that this story draws facts from history. The camp Auchou is constructed from two Nazi concentration camps Dachou and Auschwitz. In this fic I often draw parallels towards the Death Eaters and the Nazi's, this vehicle does evil things but it is made up of real people.

"Ha'mevin yavin" -- those who know, understand. This story is dedicated to peace; we must remember the atrocities of war and let them help us to encourage peace. Lest we forget.

**Prologue - Cover is Blown**

_Department of Mysteries, November 4th 1981_

Algernon Rookwood was very nervous. He wiped his brow with his arm hastily, removing large beads of sweat from his face. His mark burned black, for the second time, and he fell over screaming - in agony or fear no one could tell. Later, he only knew one thing.

Cover was blown.

There were no windows or doors in Rookwood's small, dark office. He grabbed his desk to steady himself, his thick knuckles turning pale. For an instant he had thought about fleeing, when the mark burnt black the first time. Lucius had used it to contact him, to let him know he was no longer safe.

They had discussed this very eventuality. Algernon had hoped it wouldn't come to this yet his allegiance to the Dark Lord held him there and accepting of his fate. With a set of steely nerves he set about protecting all he believed in.

It was a difficult time, a dangerous time. A small child had ended Voldemort's reign of terror. A baby. A sacrifice. Death Eaters and other supporters were in a state of disarray and the wizarding world was pursuing its own "witch hunt." Accused were thrown into Azkaban without a trial or jury. Suspects were on a hit list. Auror's were 'wand happy' and Algernon was terrified.

He had to move quickly. His office in the Department of Mysteries was kept secret, buried in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic. This was one small advantage, and the only thing that had stopped Auror Moody from Apparating straight into it. He knew he had to hurry. His allies in the Department could keep the Aurors trapped in red tape for only so long.

Muttering passwords and incantations he pulled files from hidden drawers in his office and set about burning them. "_Incindo_" he whispered, and the parchments combusted in flames.

It took less than two minutes before his office was in a complete state of disarray. In the haste and confusion his process was sloppy. Midway through one task he would remember other hidden items, more important, and would rush to burn those too. The result was an office filled with small spot fires and thick with smoke.

He was running out of time. Grunting, he shifted boxes of Ministry reports manually, too panicky to remember incantations. The smoke meant Algernon found it difficult to breathe, and his eyes stung from the ash. Yet, he struggled on, and pulled forward another box.

On top of it sat a thin black folder, bound by a shiny silver replica of the Dark Mark. Algernon tried to burn it, but the box was fireproof. Eerily the mark glittered, as if alive, inside a case of burning flames. He looked closer - the mark, a snake that protruded from the mouth of a skull, flickered.

Algernon swore he could hear it hiss. He blinked disbelievingly; it could have just been the flames. His office was hot and the air breathless, such that, his head was swimming. Momentarily stumped, he flopped on the floor muttering passwords, trying to remember the one that would open it. He had hidden things well, very well, even from himself.

Curses and hexes were often used to protect items. He was head of research for the Dark Lord, along with being a top Ministry Member with access to top-secret information, yet he couldn't remember seeing this sinister folder before. He fumbled over the folder, trying to rip it open with his hands, like a savage attempting to tear flesh from a bone. The damn thing wasn't budging! He swore bitterly.

_Pop! Pop! Pop!_

Three Aurors Apparated into his office wands drawn. They surveyed their surroundings; eyes squinted from the smoke. At first they appeared to think they were too late, until Algernon heard one Auror call out. He had seen him still hunched on the floor madly burning files. Algernon spun quickly, wand drawn, not allowing himself time to wonder how in the hell the Aurors had gotten past the wards. He was ready for this and, before the Aurors had a moment to act, he rasped two curses over the remaining fires.

_"Morsmordre!__Obliviate__!"_


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One - The Black Folder**

_Dumbledore's Office, November 5th 1981_

Dumbledore looked over his teacup and into the dark, haunted eyes of Severus Snape. Severus stared him down.

"Sherbet Lemon?" the headmaster offered, reaching over his desk with the small tin of Muggle sweets.

Severus jerked his head, and rolled his eyes at the headmaster. This could have been an act of defiance or resentment but both men knew better. Severus was nervous sitting in the headmaster's office - it was just a week after the baby Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, and his fate still remained undecided.

Severus breathed uncomfortably; the air around him was restricting and borrowed. He owed his life to the old man in front of him. The powerful wizard had protected him thus far from Azkaban. The political climate at the present time was disorder as the Wizarding World tried to reestablish its government. All throughout Europe people were waking up from trances, or going insane. It was a difficult time for everyone, more so, for a lost soul like Severus Snape.

Severus resented the headmaster's naivete; the old man expected everything to be easily fixed with love and a lemon drop. _Does Dumbledore expect that now everything will just go back to normal?_ Severus thought angrily.

Dumbledore leaned over to touch Severus's hand ignoring his long silvery beard as it fell into his tea. It was as if the headmaster could read his mind, the gentle touch soothing the younger mans uneasy thoughts. Severus gave in and looked up at the headmaster.

"You will stay here," Dumbledore said, welcoming him. "It is not safe for you at this time, there are still Death Eaters about who wish you harm. While some people on our side who still doubt your loyalty."

Severus' face betrayed nothing, yet his eyes shone with dissent. _Some?_ he thought with a mental snort, _the only one crazy enough to not doubt my loyalty, is you!_ He steadied his glare at the headmaster's eyes and thought to himself with a hint of self-deprecation, _I even doubt it._

"You have done enough for me already," Severus said expressionlessly.

"We still need your help Severus, it would not be charity," Dumbledore explained, worried that Severus was concerned about his pride.

Severus expected Dumbledore to think that, and it was true he was a proud man who did not accept charity. In truth, he couldn't bear it here, but it had little to do with his pride. That had been all but destroyed when he came to Dumbledore for help in the first place. Now he was in a position worse than accepting charity - he was in debt. The air was so tight it was choking him. He raised a long thin finger to his high collar and loosened it nervously.

"What do you _need_ me to do?" Severus asked bitterly.

"Continuing teaching," Dumbledore responded, "this is a school after all."

Severus laughed; it was cruel and hollow and didn't belong in the warm red and gold surroundings of Dumbledore's office.

"A _named_ Death Eater? If you want me teaching at Hogwarts, Professor, you have gone mad," Severus said quickly.

"_Ex_ Death Eater, Severus," Dumbledore added, "you are not one of them." His calm blue eyes proof that he was indeed very serious, "besides, there are still issues concerning Voldemort's downfall. We'll need your testimony, your expertise, and," the headmaster paused to smile sincerely, "to keep you safe."

The room was silent. Both men were deep in thought - Severus unmoving and tense, Dumbledore twiddling his thumbs and gazing away at a blank spot on the wall. You could practically hear brains ticking in thinking music. A few minutes passed in silence.

Severus coughed nervously, collecting his breath. The phoenix that sat beside Dumbledore turned to look at him when the room snapped with sound again.

"I guess I have no other choice," he said finally, and he really didn't.

Dumbledore looked up and smiled kindly toward him. The headmaster looked relieved, as if he knew it was going to be difficult however his eyes twinkled again with a happy knowledge of what was to come. Severus comparatively looked vacant, lost, and unresolved.

"Fantastic," Dumbledore smiled, leaning back in his chair and ringing tea out of his beard. The room's tension had all but disappeared. "Well, let's get down to business shall we? You will, of course, continue teaching Potions, for you are by far over qualified for the position and it is now permanently vacant...." he digressed.

They both knew that the previous Potion Master had fallen in the war. Labour shortages were another problem; Severus would have been able to find a job, as he was perhaps the most skilled Potions Master in Britain, if it weren't for the fact most people would be reluctant to hire a suspected Death Eater.

"Classes should be no problem Severus so you won't have to worry, I'll give you a free rein on the syllabus," he offered brightly, then hastily added, "within reason."

Severus nodded, listening intently. However, he was far too tired to ingest the information and eager to retreat to his dungeons. During the last half of the war, he had often escaped to the privacy of the Hogwarts dungeons, and he had come to think of them as his own. Taken in as a student teacher, he played the role of a spy, a double agent. Working for Dumbledore and providing him with information, working for Voldemort and providing him information. It was difficult to remember which side you were actually playing for.

"One other thing is this," Dumbledore said, as he opened his top drawer and shuffled through papers. He lifted out a small box.

"What is it?" asked Severus, drawn into the conversation by the item, Dumbledore handed it over. Severus opened it gently.

"Aurors found this last night," Dumbledore explained, "in Algernon Rookwood's office." Severus nodded pulling out pieces of burnt parchment. Some were in good condition, while others were nearly all but destroyed.

"He was in charge of research, so these must be plans of some sort," Severus said, looking through the papers. The ones that were the least damaged were written in code.

"You don't know the code?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, but surely Emmeline Vance could crack it," he said. Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "What else did you find?"

"Rookwood burnt everything in his office, he managed to fire off a dark mark before erasing his memory. He's been at St. Mungo's but they can't help him. Another dead end, all that was left is in that box. And this," Dumbledore said, and he pulled the last thing from the top of his drawer; a shiny black folder, locked by The Dark Mark. Dumbledore slid it across the desk.

Severus pushed the parchments back into the box and then looked up. His face turned a sickly white, as if the serpent had come up and bit him.

"The Auror's couldn't open that folder," Dumbledore explained, "I was hoping you'd be able to do it for them. You'll see it's marked S.S down the bottom," he looked at Severus, he noticed his horror.

Severus Snape had a great amount of self-control. Being a double agent would have ended him otherwise. He was a man who had complete control over every action; a blink, a slight shift in posture, could reveal his deepest secrets. If you didn't look closely, you'd miss the man entirely. He could be powerful or persuasive at the drop of a hat. Retain a neutral appearance as his watched murder or rape, in fact, his expressionless face was famous for it. So Dumbledore was shocked when he saw Severus swing back from the folder uncertainly.

Shit, Severus thought. He gripped the desk with his hand, he'd never thought he'd see this again.

"I see you recognise it, it is yours then?" Dumbledore asked, and chuckled, trying to keep the mood light, "I expected as much. It was most complicated, no one else could open it."

"You have to be in the Silver Circle," Severus explained, "Rookwood couldn't have opened it, and I don't know what he was doing with it." Severus had put the rest of the box down and was gripping the folder tightly.

"Well if you would just open it for me then," Dumbledore urged gently.

Severus was thinking quickly, "I'll actually have to take it with me, there may be a variety of other spells. It could take a while to crack. I have to find out which potion will neutralize the charm." He rambled.

"You charmed it!" exclaimed Dumbledore, and then he quickly composed himself. He wanted to remind Severus that it was Ministry Property and he could open it right here. However, he knew he had to trust him.

"It was some time ago," Severus continued softly, his voice taking on it's usual silky tone, all the while clutching the folder closer to his chest, "I'll have to check with my records. After all, I was always very thorough and I expect there are some pretty nasty hexes on this." His explanation was uttered a little too quickly. As if to cover his tracks, he reassuringly said, "I'll have it back to the Ministry by tomorrow morning." Dumbledore, with no other alternative, nodded.

"Okay then, I hope that you come to regard this castle as your home. We are a family here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore comforted Severus, trying to reach out to the abyss that was the young man in front of him.

Severus nodded rapidly in agreement, jumped from the seat as if it had burnt him and nervously retreated to the door. He stopped in the frame and turned back. "Thank you, Albus," he muttered. Before the headmaster could reply, he was gone.

Sweeping down the Hogwarts hallway, the tall man walked, gripped with fear. Clutching the folder tightly to his chest, his white knuckles shook and his chest heaved. Black robes billowing out behind him, he made sharp turns down passages to avoid anyone who might have been in the castle.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two - Initiation**

_Rosier Manor, 3rd November 1976_

"He got eighteen O.W.L.s last year, he's pureblood and Slytherin," Ivan Rosier whined to his father and Marcus Mulciber. They were dining in plush seats in the living room after going to a Death Eater meeting. Ivan was trying to get his best friend Severus Snape initiated as a Death Eater. Ivan had been priming him for two years, and having joined the ranks himself last summer (the summer before starting sixth year) he wanted his friend to join him before Christmas.

"He can brew Veritaserum, Congrutious, and Hetraious already," Ivan continued. "Not to mention use all three Unforgivables and he knows more Dark Arts hexes than anyone else."

"Veritaserum?" asked Mulciber impressed.

Ivan nodded excitedly, "Oh, since second year. We found out the funniest things about Avery. Did you know he admitted to having a crush on Lily Evans, a mudblood! And, he is terrified of caterpillars, thinks they have too many legs, we have been putting them in his bed ever since, he also said that......" Ivan trailed off as he was caught in his father's glare.

"It's not that I doubt his ability," his father drawled, "in fact, the boy is far too valuable to pass up. That's why we have to wait until he is ready. The Snapes have always remained a problem since their run-in with the Blacks. They have no money - and our attempts at getting Ureic Snape to join have been futile, the man's rarely sober enough to stand, let alone draw a wand."

Rissum Rosier was one of the Death Eaters in charge of recruitment for the Dark Lord. Voldemort had infiltrated most of Wizarding Europe, the years of his assent had been filled with fear and panic. Now with Britian in his stranglehold the environment for the average wizard was one of absolute terror. However, the Rosier's and other Dark Arts Families were having the time of their lives. Dinner parties, spots of Muggle torture, lives of power and money.

"Oh, he's ready," Ivan nodded, his voice turning serious, "last week he put the Cruciatus on that family turncoat Sirius Black."

His father's fork clattered to the table. Mulciber looked over the table excitedly caught up in Ivan's enthusiasm.

"Really?" Mulciber asked.

"Yep," Ivan nodded, "and what's more, Dumbledore hushed it up. Snape has the old bat wrapped around his little finger." Taking a breath for dramatic effect, Ivan continued, "Apparently, Black tried to kill Snape. It didn't work, but Snape was so mad he put Cruciatus on him. Then, when they were hauled into Dumbledore's office, we thought Snape would be expelled or worse for sure. He managed to come out - scott free - not even a point from Slytherin. Rumor is he blackmailed Dumbledore, knows some little secret, but Snape's not telling us about it. Just like I told you, Dad, he is amazing."

"Is he really?" Rissum mocked, however his eyes betrayed him, they glittered hungrily. "We might just have to invite him to stay these Christmas holidays, then."

Ivan nodded and grinned like a Cheshire cat returning to his meal. Mulciber changed the topic, boasting about a Ministry Official that he had framed using the Imperius curse.

xx

_Somewhere in Scotland, 24th December 1976_

The wind was howling loudly and the place smelt like death. Death Eaters had gathered atop a beach-side cliff in Scotland. Severus pulled his robes tighter around him - they felt nice on his soft young skin. Hard to describe, they were coloured a shiny black and caressed the skin like satin or silk would, but had a stronger, more serpentine feeling to them. He felt comfortable in these robes; even the mask was unexpected. It didn't feel heavy or constricting and didn't impair his vision. He felt powerful while adorned in these robes.

He gathered with the group. There were about two hundred wizards and witches at this meeting. He pushed forward with Ivan through the crowd. A tight circle was formed in the middle, made of about twenty wizards, who wore a silver rope around their waists and others gathered behind them pushing to get to the front. Severus and Ivan stopped right behind them. Severus tried to look through these wizards to get a glimpse of the Dark Lord but couldn't. The man in front of him had a large cloak that flickered in the strong wind that had started around the group.

He was nervous, though he would never have admitted it, here at last. Ivan grinned stupidly at him as he gestured others in the circle. The wind roared even louder and Severus couldn't hear Ivan who was trying to talk to him.

But, he heard _him._

His whisper had stopped the wind. The calm crashed upon the group with fierce intensely. And Severus had to stop himself from falling. Ivan stopped talking immediately.

"Greetings my friends, my Death Eaters, my followers. Feel our pure power here today." His words echoed as he spoke and waves of power washed over the crowd. Severus almost fell forward to the ground feeling an erotic surge right through his body. Ivan grabbed his arm harshly.

"Let me tell you the truth. Let me show you the light. Let me show you the power of a true wizard." Voldemort whispered, as the mutual feelings intensified. The power surged around them in a glorious symphony of crashing lust and beautiful agony. Severus would have screamed in pain-wracked pleasure if he had been able to catch his breath. Instead, he groaned along with the others. He had never felt so alive - It was as if his nerves were melting together. He managed to finally catch a glimpse of the man. He was tall and stood dressed in long dark green robes. Severus etched tentative steps forward. Voldemort's presence radiated power and his eyes were cat like and blood red.

"I take it we stand united under the Dark Mark?" he asked. "I, who have the blood of Salazar Slytherin running through my veins, am here to finish his noble work. To shape a new future for wizard kind, a future for all of us, a future we need to make together, a future determined by the greatest Dark Wizard to have ever graced the planet!"

The crowd started cheering and Severus' body was shaking uncontrollably. Voldemort kept stepping forward and stopped in front of the man closest to Severus and Ivan. Severus caught his eye for a moment as Voldemort looked at them through the crowd.

"I have called you here tonight to witness a new beginning," Voldemort said, "we have new initiates, will they please step forward."

Ivan gave Severus a gentle nudge in the back and he fell through the bigger men in front of him and into the tight circle. He noticed two other men enter the circle as well. The three of them stood before Voldemort. The other two looked much older than Severus - but, it was hard to tell, everyone wore masks.

"_Crucio_" Voldemort whispered at the new initiates, and they started screaming. Severus felt pain beyond pain; his muscles were tearing themselves from the bone. The two men beside him fell to the ground. Severus was determined to stand upright, even though his aching limbs willed him to the floor. Voldemort lifted the curse and smiled. His lips were wet and seductive. He leant forward to Severus and whispered, "You won't disappoint me, Severus Snape," his s's were hissed and his voice was sweet.

Upon orders, the three knelt before the Dark Lord and drew up their sleeves. Voldemort began with the man furthest from him and the two whispered for a moment before Voldemort drew his wand. Voldemort used his wand to open a scar that crossed the palm of his own hand. He smiled looking at his thick blood ooze into the palm of his hand, flexing his long pale fingers. Severus watched anxiously as Voldemort tipped the blood onto the man's skin. It splattered down on the man's forearm, who held it out steadily to Voldemort. A curse was whispered so quietly Severus almost missed it and the blood moved upon the man's forearm to form a bloody Dark Mark. Severus gasped silently, he could hear the man whimper as Voldemort held his wand to the blood and muttered another incantation, the blood burnt black. The man's arm was smoking and Severus could smell his flesh. There was gasping and screaming, until the man passed out on the ground.

The same process was repeated with the next man and then Voldemort reached Severus. Flicking his eyes to the two fallen bodies beside him Severus was even more nervous. His outstretched arm was shaking and Voldemort would have seen the fear in his eyes as he lent forward and whispered to Severus, "If you are not frightened, I can challenge you. I can free you. You are bound by nothing, until you bind yourself to me."

Severus looked around nervously, unsure of what to say. The Dark Lord's eyes were inviting and sincere. Severus had never felt so wanted before. It was almost lustful.

"You are intelligent boy, are you not obliged to be in my service?" Voldemort seemed impatient and his voice commanding.

"I didn't ask for this," Severus whispered, he tried to think of advice his mother had given him, but her echoes had drowned long ago, Severus never felt more alone. The power he had felt tonight was inviting but he had always been more interested in studying magic's. While he was one of the most advanced in practice of the Dark Arts at Hogwarts he was frightened of their power. He wanted to understand these magic's not fall for their lure. Not be trapped by their beauty. Knowledge was power, and he needed power, needed respect, needed someone to love him.

Voldemort relaxed and spoke gently as if reading his thoughts, "No you were born for it, I can teach you things you only dreamed of, you will stand next to me, I will care for you. Now, Severus, it is your choice. What will it be?" Voldemort asked, his voice soft and understanding. Severus knew that voice was like a poised serpent waiting to strike but he couldn't help feeling so wanted, so invited.

"I want to serve you," Severus uttered, and as soon as he spoke the words he felt free, "You inspire me, you can free me," he whispered sincerely, and bowed to Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort's long thin white fingers brushed gently down Severus's face and Voldemort looked into his eyes provocatively. Severus breath quivered and he felt a sharp charge run through him as Voldemort grabbed his arm, it had stopped shaking now, still with a fierce resolve.

The blood tickled his skin as it rearranged to form the Dark Mark. Severus sighed. Voldemort laughed softly looking down at him. Severus reached his arm up to the Dark Lord. It was then that Voldemort caught his arm as it hung reaching for reason. Voldemort's wand pressed hard into Severus' forearm and he felt his soul being freed. He became dizzy and intoxicated as the Dark Lord burned his mark, it burned to the bone, up the arm, and through his body. Death, blood and flesh never smelt so good.

It took minutes before Severus regained feeling looking though a black haze as everything came slowly back into focus. Voldemort was still standing before him smiling softly. "You're back," he whispered, and it was if he spoke to Severus's soul and he would cast an unforgivable curse on himself to hear it again. But still trapped in ecstasy he just smiled his eyelids dropping and vision blurred. He passed out again.

He had fallen, hook, line and sinker.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three - Slytherin Histories**

_Hogwarts, Late, 5th November 1981_

Severus was still racing down the hallways as he stopped in the lower dungeons gasping for breath. He wasn't a particularly healthy man the fear along with his run was pressing on his chest. He dropped the folder on the floor and slid down the wall beside it.

He tried to think of something else, but every memory of this hall was filled with hatred, he hated it here. His memories of school were not fond ones and now he was expected to teach here? He had entered Hogwarts a stubborn little chit, angry at the world and ready to curse anyone who got in his way.

His home life made him bitter, a violent drunk father and a weak mother. How he hated them. He would lock himself away for hours, practicing curses and studying the Dark Arts from his father's study. To this day their memory evoked a harsh resentment, he wondered if he would ever be able to let that anger go. But, that anger was often the only thing keeping him alive.

And of course, the only thing that had won Severus, the poor dirty bastard child, the welcome into most Slytherin Circles. The circles that mattered anyway. Severus became Lucius Malfoy's youngest friend, this had many benefits, for a time; it wasn't long before Lucius had graduated and Severus was left on his own with the Gryffindors he had mercilessly taunted under Malfoy's promised protection. Where was Lucius later, when Severus was bullied by Black and stripped by Potter? Even mocked by the Slytherins, a loner.

Yet, like the prodigal son, they were there for him at the last. The Slytherins, his only true family. They had a pack mentality, in hunting and maternal protection, which drove them together. Their mantra; stand united, stand together. All they needed was a leader……

Severus looked at the Dark Mark on the shiny black folder. He couldn't hate it anymore, he picked the folder up gingerly and pushed himself into the private quarters Dumbledore had set up for him.

Once the door was shut, locked, and charmed, Severus let out a shaky sigh. The room was stuffy and dark. It had high ceilings and candles glittered, casting daunting shadows across the room. He placed the folder benevolently on his desk and paced beside it for a moment. He knew what was in this folder. It was raw horror, and it was he. _What would Dumbledore do if he knew the true terrors of my crimes?_

The room grew colder; embers of a dying fire providing little comfort or light. He bit his lip nervously as he failed to make a decision, or even summon the courage to open it. Walking across to the opposite side of the room. In the low light, he could see the silver snake glitter, slither, seemingly wanting to strike.

Finally, he dived toward the desk, pressed his finger to the seal and whispered a secret curse. The dungeons were dark but Severus recognised everything inside the Department of Mysteries hidden folder. It was neatly organised. Everything was here. Everything.

Severus' eyes glazed over with bad memories as he shuffled through the black papers. Each page scripted with silver ink and bearing the Dark Mark. Each page - a painful reminder of his past, his soul.

Severus slumped forward on the desk to afraid to move. _Thank God Albus didn't see them,_ he thought wildly. The last thing he needed was painful questions. These were the only papers that bore his name, though other more vile papers remained, maps, tests, and results, all written in his thin spidery handwriting. These were the ones that would hang him. Shock had driven the cold from the room, but now it came crashing back to him, he shivered. The hairs on his arms pricked up in fear.

Pushing back from the desk Severus ran into the bathroom and gripped the edge of the toilet seat, he was violently ill. His body ached and the tiled floor made him feel colder still. His eyes hazed over making him feel more distant. Pulling his body from the floor he glared at the bathroom mirror, his eyes blazing with self-hatred.

_And to think, I used to pay good money to feel like this._

Disgusted at the reflection, he pushed himself away from the mirror. Cruelly, he splashed himself with cold water and the shiver helped him to regain some composure as he shuffled back into the room. His robes hung limply to his body and he moaned.

The soft light of the dungeon illuminated the silver script on the black paper. It shone viciously at him, looking wet, like blood, reminding him of the worst years of his life. Moving to the other side of the room he glared at the ink, willing it to disappear. It didn't.

Angrily he grabbed the offending papers from his desk. He gripped them tightly, the paper cutting his delicate hands. Filled with an unprecedented panic he quickly hurled them into the fireplace.

"_Incendio,_" he whispered, and the fireplace roared with mighty flames. The heat blasted the room quickly and Severus closed his eyes to let it roll over him. It was a comforting heat. But it couldn't burn the memories from him.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four - Dark Houses**

_Winsley__, a small town 5 miles from Bath, 15th August 1979_

They Apparated straight onto snow. Lucius' suede boots were ruined.

"Shit!" he hissed, as he awkwardly lifted his boots from the snow. The two large men beside him looked around with their wands drawn.

The night was dark and cold. No one had noticed the arrival of the three men from thin air in. The moon was full, yet hidden from view by dark gray clouds so that the only light remaining was from a small house on the hill. A light, candlelight by the look of it, flickered from the window. The other village houses were blanketed in darkness as smarter wizards hid in the dark during these dangerous times. Not this man, he who lived here, held no fear of intruders. The snow around his house shone from the reflection of the light making the stone house look deceivingly daunting and strong.

Flanked by the two clumsy men Lucius walked across the snow complaining the whole time about his boots until he reached the small house. The group felt the wards sizzle around them as they trudged through. They gave them no thought, as they were expected guests this evening. Their luck, however, was unknown to them. These wards were dangerous and powerful. Had the three not bore the Dark Mark, they would be choking to death, instead of approaching the landing.

The door pushed open and the large frame of Blair Dolohov, the most brutal and feared Death Eater greeted them. He was tall and broad, befitting his strong physique. He wore Death Eater robes and a silver belt around his middle. His hair was black, close-cropped and a painful gash was visible under his eye.

These eyes were metallic and strange. Dangerous eyes. They glinted in a twisted greeting.

"Lucius, old friend," he said, and then nodded at the two behind Lucius, "Nott, Goyle."

The group entered the house, which, like most wizarding houses, was bigger inside then out. Dolohov led the way to a stark sitting room and checked the time on a large grandfather clock in the corner. Looking to Lucius, he nodded. Lucius told the two buffoons to remain in the sitting room. The men grunted and sat. Normally they would have asked for a snack; however, Dolohov struck fear into them, and they were not easily frightened.

Lucius and Dolohov proceeded down a narrow and poorly lit corridor. Dolohov whispered to the doors and they flew open as the pair walked down stairs into a dungeon. The dungeon was large, probably bigger than the house. Potions were brewed in one corner and the other held large muggle torture devices. They walked into a smaller dungeon. It was dressed simply with a desk, two chairs, a crystal decanter of port and two glasses.

Dolohov poured the port and they sipped it in silence for an hour. It was standard procedure for important meetings like this. It gave them time for Polyjuice checks and time to think. Lucius was a smart man and knew what precautions must be taken; however he was sure that he would have recognised a fake Blair, and he, a fake Lucius. The two were old friends and had joined Voldemort together years ago; they had only been eighteen. Lucius just out of school and travelling Europe on his fathers pay check. Blair, similarly just out of school, they met Voldemort in western Russia. Then, at the beginnings of his power - a man with a vision. He was powerful then too, speaking in bars, gathering followers. Lucius and Blair were some of the first to join.

Lucius admired the man who was considered to not be human by the majority of the wizarding world. The two had had fun in their early days competing against each other in their power games to impress the Dark Lord. They were powerful, smart, and vindictive. Calling a semi-truce once they both gained flavour, they looked out for each other now, even though unspoken rivalry still remained.

There weren't many people who could tell the difference between these men, both sick, both brutal, both deranged, and sinister. But they knew it, and the Dark Lord knew it.

Lucius was the manipulator. While they both recognized the beauty of the kill, Lucius didn't like to do the dirty work.

"Why get blood on your hands if you can get someone else to lick it off?" he would say to Dolohov, eyes glittering dangerously.

Lucius knew about control, he loved it, loved torture and manipulation to the highest degree. He could get you to kill your own family if he wanted to. Heck, he could make you kill yourself. He loved memory charms the best. Memory charms are misleading, you see...the memory isn't really gone, just hidden, pushed into the deep recesses of the human brain. Perfect for manipulation. He could haunt people, change them, convince them without them even knowing he was doing it. They felt like they were going mad when they found they reacted to certain stimuli without cause. Suddenly a mother with no violent history would stab a man she swore she had never met and not remember why. It was also why Lucius was able to keep his evils a secret.

Dolohov on the other hand craved the kill. He loved the feeling of taking a life - a stranger, his mothers - it didn't matter. He would watch greedily as his victim slipped from consciousness, throw his wand aside to feel a man take his last breath under the crushing of his huge hands. He wanted them to plead for his mercy, so he could laugh it away. Painful deaths were his favourite; "toying with his food" other Death Eaters would call it. Then he would masturbate over the dead body, his victim's blood lubricating his fingers. Death and pain excited him beyond reason.

The Dark Lord respected that, loved it, even understood it. He was, however, more familiar with Lucius' type of power and had sent him to manipulate on his behalf. This game was a dangerous one, even for Lucius. The hour's silence was well respected in this instance, as he collected his thoughts.

Lucius waved his wand to re-light candles that had burnt low. An hour had passed.

They looked at each other and broke into laughter. They laughed like madmen, when decorum was restored they turned oddly serious.

"Congratulations on the Travers boy," Dolohov said, breaking the ice. "I hear that you have manipulated him well." It was always a good start to butter up Lucius. Let the mind games begin.

"Boy killed his own parents," Lucius boasted, "and Rosier said he was only good for reconnaissance. He's turned out quite well. Of course, that'll happen with quite a bit of Malfoy Manipulation. Did you handle the Dearborn situation?"

"Of course," Dolohov smiled. Although he and his brother Antonin had attended Durmstrang, he was eager to make it in Voldemort's circle, "So what is the new mission?"

_Getting straight down to business_, Lucius smirked, swirling his whisky in the glass. He had to think quickly and speak carefully, as Dolohov could become angry at his information.

"I have instructions for you to start a Scientific Camp. You're to round up the prisoners and work with Snape," Lucius said

"Ureic Snape?" Dolohov asked. "I've heard the name...Potions Master, right? Thought he wouldn't fight for the cause?"

"His son, Severus," Lucius said, carefully measuring the man's reaction.

"A boy?"

"A prodigy, powerful and Slytherin to the core. He has succeeded in every mission from our master, neatly. He's been working with Rosier and been unprecedentedly useful, thanks to his potions ability. The Dark Lord feels that he is ready; he was taken into the Silver Circle last week," he explained

"What?!" exploded Dolohov, slamming the glass to the table. "Why wasn't I at the initiation, or even told about it?"

Lucius turned the anger to his flavour, as he always would, if given half a chance.

"Knew you wouldn't approve... the Dark Lord got me here to sing his praises to get you on board. And I admit the boy unfortunately has none of the vices I admire. He's not fond of rape, torture or Imperius...says he prefers to control them on his own. I can respect that...the man is smart. You have to see him work. Plus he's a master of the other two Unforgiveables, and with his potions skill and his...imagination...it more than makes up for his deficiencies."

"I would do anything for our master," Dolohov said sullenly, upset that he was out of the loop.

"He doesn't doubt that, that's why he wants you to keep things in control," Lucius said, flattering him unnecessarily. Dolohov shot him a look, aware of Lucius's attempts to charm him.

"This is an important new mission with science. Severus has been brewing with Pince and Muench. The boy far exceeds them, a prodigy of sorts. They had him cooped up for a week brewing Crirriuo, the most painful and difficult of the Dark Arts potions and he forced it down Pince's neck screaming, 'Do you know how easy this is for me?' He watched him squirm for a full minute before he gave him the counter potion. Certainly raised some eyebrows, especially after the boy revealed that Pince and his wife had been hiding out at Hogwarts and turned to the other side. He says the only reason he gave him the antidote was to keep him alive long enough for his guilty admission and so the master could kill him. Pince unfortunately was killed last week, his wife managing to escape to Hogwarts, but leaving a position in the Silver Circle. And, Severus just happened to be the best one for the job."

"I'm starting to warm up to the boy," Dolohov grinned.

"Yes, but he is dangerous and powerful," Lucius warned. "Keep him in charge, and watch him. There is no room for error here; we want him on our side, a powerful ally and fiercely loyal. We just have to make sure we know where his loyalties lie. That's why the Dark Lord wants you to keep an eye on him, and install a little fear in the camp."

Dolohov was angry at being made second in command. Currently his only plans were to trip the boy up. Lucius read him like a book.

"I know what you're thinking...you can break him after we are done. The Dark Lord won't be happy with any insubordinance, not when he is so close to achieving immortality," Lucius said, watching Dolohov slowly as the man agreed with a slight nod. He had sold the mission.

"Anyway, here is the brief," he continued handing Dolohov the black folder which bore the Dark Mark. "It's the only thing we've kept. All other documents are to be written in code, no names, use numbers. Rookwood is paranoid about spies. He has taken to tabulating everything...no information is given out without his consent. He's gone so far as to keep it at the Ministry. You get a small team to round up prisoners. Snape needs wizards and Muggles, halfbloods will do, and pures against the cause. Try and get some Weasleys. Your team's all right, except Karkaroff, he worked with Travers at the McKinnons murder, Travers says he's a bit of a bungler. The Dark Lord was afraid Travers might kill him so moved him to work with you guys," Lucius said with a cruel Malfoy sneer.

Dolohov nodded, reading through the papers. The brief seemed interesting enough and he knew he had to beat Malfoy back into the Dark Lord's favour. Voldemort was strong and intelligent; as long as he kept playing one against the other neither would have time to eye his throne.

"Those goons have probably found their way to the kitchen and eaten everything," Dolohov said, rising from his chair. Lucius nodded and rose.

"Lets go and redeem some of our glory days...nice little village you have here, Blair," Lucius smiled, drawing his wand.

They laughed as they reached the landing and Nott and Goyle looked up from their feast.

Lucius grinned. Mission accomplished, he was in an excellent mood, and ready to attack. "Come on boys, we're off for some fun."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five - Codes and Breakthroughs**

_Hogwarts, 6th November 1981_

Severus walked into the Great Hall cautiously. It was barren without students and the charmed sky looked bleak. The staff table was sparse, Severus scanned it for faces he recognised, Professor Binns, Professor McGoungall, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick had all been here in his day, and the others were new.

He noticed that the staff were staring at him too. They looked grave. Albus Dumbledore, however, looked as radiant as always.

"Ah, Severus," he rose and greeted the man, "so good of you to join us."

The teachers eyes had united upon him on his arrival, now after Dumbledore's warm welcome their eyes darted to one another questioningly.

Minerva McGonagall had taught in his day and he recognised her as she glanced at him lips pursed in the thinnest of lines. She didn't even try to whisper as she pulled Dumbledore aside.

"What," she demanded, "is he doing here?"

Severus still hovered by the table not sure about this arrangement at all. He felt like a student again.

Dumbledore ignored her and smiled.

"Staff," he addressed the small number at the table, "I would like you to meet our new Potions Professor, Severus Snape."

They glared at him. He looked to the faces he recognised, Professors Spout, Filtwick and even the ghost Binns seemed to be offended by his presence, their eyes screamed 'guilty!' Did they think he couldn't be trusted? Is this what was expected of him? It was not a friendly introduction and it put Severus on guard. He drew himself up taller and pasted a blank expression on his face. He deserved no less.

"Professors," Severus nodded curtly, or rather jerked his head irritably at the table and then turned his attention to Dumbledore, "I brought you this," and he handed over the black folder shining with the Dark Mark. Worst suspicions confirmed the staff started to murmur uneasily.

"Thank you Severus," said Dumbledore looking at the opened folder. Severus had kept some of the maps and some vague documents and felt no guilt as he handed the incomplete file over, "Won't you join us?" Dumbledore offered.

"No thank you Professor, I have lessons to prepare for," Severus said curtly, and turned on his heel.

Dumbledore nodded dejected but understood and bade him good day. Severus walked the long empty distance across the hall and felt the teacher's eyes boring into his back. He didn't even reach the entrance hall before the staff table exploded with commotion.

xxxxxxxx

"'Ello," said a gruff voice. Hagrid looked into the small dungeon office of Severus Snape. He sat behind a small table with papers, assumably lesson plans, spread over it. Upon hearing his intruder his head jerked up and eyes glittered dangerously.

Severus Snape's gaze however went unnoticed by the bumbling friendly face of Hogwarts Groundkeeper Rubeus Hagrid. He was huge yet his small round black eyes shone friendly yet uncertain as he hovered in the doorframe.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds," he said taking a tentative step into the office, and offering a huge gnarled hand across the table. Hagrid had been nervous in this mans presence but quickly puffed himself out with pride reminding himself that he was one of Dumbledore's most trusted personnel. This was a position of which he thanked himself for everyday, he felt undeserving of so such trust. But, Dumbledore was a great man and despite Hagrid's unfavourable background he was one of his trusted circle. Oddly enough for Hagrid this stern young man also earned the headmasters trust and after seeing the new recruit flee from the Great Hall this morning felt compelled to come visit him.

Severus continued to stare at him in vain. He recognised Hagrid from his days at Hogwarts, however had never talked to the man before, in fact, as a child he had always been rather scared of him. This time it was Hagrid who looked a little anxious.

"Can I help you?" Severus asked bitterly, turning back down to his papers to signal that he was busy and ignoring the outstretched hand.

Hagrid, bless his soul, continued when others in his position would have fled never to return. He sat in the seat opposite Severus his large frame falling over the edge.

"Things didn' seem ter go so well in the hall this mornin', just wanted yer to know that it'll be alrigh'. People will warm up to yer, bit like myself when I first started."

"I gather you don't share their sentiments then?" Severus asked eyebrow cocked.

"Nup," Hagrid answered smiling broadly, "yer seem alright ter me, a little on the nervous side, eh, don' worry yer'll be fine, and Dumbledore trust's yer an all, great man Dumbledore. Look here if yer ever feeling a bit wurried, don' yer fret one bit, yer here, jus' come down an see me, I'll make you sum tea an cake. Classes should be easy enough yer jus' gotta know how to handle them. Like a Acromantula, big an scary for some, but once you know how to calm em."

Pausing to change the subject Hagrid asked, "Wot yer workin' on there?"

Severus looked at the man and hesitated a short time before answering, "Lesson plans for fifth year, Dumbledore said I could have reign on the syllabus so I'm making some changes."

"Oh," said Hagrid genuinely interested, "I never finished potions meself, jus' between yer and me thou, been tryin' a potion to keep away Doxies from the cabbages."

"You should try a Trioxy Potion," Severus suggested summoning a book from the shelf, "You'll see the properties of silthine will coat the Doxies wings and arms without harming the cabbages. They won't come back after that, smart things Doxies, and one you stopped them breeding there."

He handed Hagrid the book and relaxed into his chair just a little as he watched the big man thumb through it. The two spent the next half-hour talking, or rather Hagrid asked a lot of questions that Severus answered, about all sorts of potions. Hargid grinned, Dumbledore had once told him that to get formidable people to talk you had to approach them with a topic they liked. In fact, Hagrid wondered if Dumbledore had told him that with this exact eventuality in mind. Hagrid smiled knowingly.

Great man Dumbledore.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"I've got most of these codes Albus," Emmeline said into the fireplace, and then jumped back as Albus Dumbledore walked right into her small house in Godric's Hollow. The tiny wiazrding town was a close-knit community and one that after the war and the destruction of the Potter's house were still in grief.

"You could have warned me," she said adjusting her nightgown and purple shawl.

Dumbledore chuckled as he reached down and scratched behind the ear of a kneazle. It purred and another two came to rub Dumbledore's legs. Emmeline looked on with anger as her kneazles took a warm interest in the old man. They were obviously taking sides and she glared at the headmaster astutely.

"Albus! You brought cat treats!" she exclaimed outraged.

"I have too when travelling here," he chortled.

He stopped petting the creatures and returned his attention to Emmeline who asked, "How's Harry?"

"He is living with his family in Surrey," Dumbledore answered.

"Aren't they Muggles?" asked Emmeline. "You know my husband and I would be happy to take him, half the families in the Hollow would. It seems so empty here without the Potters, the large house on the hill just smoky ruins." Emmeline clutched her nightgown protectively.

"I know, but he is safer there," said Albus.

"You don't think the dangers past?" asked Emmeline.

Albus sighed, "I fear not."

Just last week he had performed the charms to protect Harry in the care of his relatives calling on a binder, his old friend, squib Arabella Figg, and old blood magic. Arguments had broken about where to put the boy however he was most protected in his relative's care.

Albus sat down on Emmeline's couch and thumbed through the coded papers on the coffee table.

"It has to be over," Emmeline said softly, "it is awful. The codes, Jugson must have written them, the runes were perfect he's the only one that could have done them, taught him myself. There are some pretty shocking orders here, the Travers murder and the Bone's. The worst though, are these," she said and pulled more decoded papers from beside her chair. Albus looked at them gravely and Emmeline continued, "They are plans. It has to be over, there was talk of testing, a sort of wizard Holocaust...."

Albus interrupted as his face paled, "Severus managed to open it, he told me of some of the plans," and he handed the black folder over to Emmeline.

The wizard went quiet as she quickly shuffled through the new papers Dumbledore had given her. She gasped choking back rising bile. Thank God she was sitting down. Decoding the plans had been enough, know that some were implemented, it sickened her, and she tossed them onto the table.

"Did he have any part in this?" she eventually asked the anger in his voice shaking.

"No," Albus answered, "he knew it was going on, put a stop to it when he came to me, says it's part of the reason he came. Stopped it from happening to her."

Emmeline shook her head she didn't believe him, as wise as Albus was he wasn't all knowing. Emmeline would never trust a traitor but she knew better than to say that.

"Are there names?" she asked, looking up hopefully.

"Only one," Dumbledore sighed, "Blair Dolohov and he is dead, killed by Aurors when they reached the camp."

Blair Dolohov, the name evoked so much fear, Emmeline would not speak it. He was known for aggressive blood lust but could anyone perform these atrocities?

"They're going to get away," she growled, her voice bitter, "Get away, with this," and she gestured over the coffee table, "It's not right, it's not right. And, if he comes back……" Emmeline was a strong woman and she had trouble keeping the tears from her eyes.

"The Aurors are still searching, we might find him soon, while he's weak," Albus offered.

"Don't count on it, the whole Ministry's a mess, they couldn't find a Dragon on a doormat, why do you think I'm thinking about leaving," Emmeline said jumping up.

Albus cleaned his glasses and conjured up some tea. "Sit," he kindly commanded.

Albus stirred in some sugar and the two sat in silence and sipped their tea.

"We need you Emmeline, stay with the Ministry. This is what we have been fighting; we'll stop this." Albus said and he took the younger woman's hand.

"You bet we will," Emmeline growled, "I'll find the one who started this if it kills me!"


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six - Auchou**

_Auchou__, 17th August 1979_

It was a dark foul-smelling dusk, empty, grey sky, swollen looking and purple tinged. Severus Snape was a stark contrast. He stood tall and proud against the drab grey background his sleek black hair tied back elegantly with a velvet ribbon. He looked about appraising his new surrounds, his long thin fingers sat contentedly on his silver clasp.

Men hurried toward him dressed in Death Eater regatta. Severus looked at them, disinterested and disdainful.

Dolohov's form pushed through the crowd, the only other man not wearing a mask.

"Snape," he greeted him holding out a hand.

"You must be Blair," Severus said, pulling off a glove and accepting the man's handshake, "I know your brother Antonin."

Dolohov had a strong grip and Severus detected a durable smell around him. A predatory smell. It made him alert like a deer to a wolf. Dolohov pulled Severus closer toward him in their handshake, staring down at him. Severus now well versed in these power games and pulled back with equal force. He met Dolohov in a steely-eyed glare.

Dolohov's eyes were the indefinite shade of the sea before a storm, not quite, green, blue or gray but a mix of those colours. They swirled and made him uncomfortable. Severus didn't show it though, after training in Voldemort's service his power was strong and aura infallible. Though inwardly in the deep recesses of his soul, this man made him feel uneasy.

"Let's get moving shall we?" Dolohov asked apparently satisfied, as he moved forward to the cement building. A short and balding man with a strong aura of physical strength guarded it. Dolohov nodded to him and the two men proceeded inside.

The smell hit Severus like a freight train.

It was unbearable. He pulled his robe to cover his nose and face. The air was as thick as syrup and smelt like some kind of fetid animal den. His stomach flipped.

He looked at the caged people around him. They stood in dirt repugnantly blending with it. There was blood thickly oozing from the earth. The people were skeletal and looked at his strong black presence with renewed horror.

They looked old, but as he assessed the room, he realised most were young people, starved and lying in their own excrement. The faces were ghostly pale and almost inhuman, bloodied and tear-stained.

All eyes averted his as he cast a glance over the crowd. All except one pair of shining aqua eyes. They were smiling eyes, kind eyes, they looked on him for compassion. A feeling that was lost on him. He sneered at her gaunt drawn face, which made her eyes more pronounced and alien from her pale features. She confused him by nodding in some silent understanding and shed small happy tears. It made him want to vomit.

"What is this filth?" he asked Dolohov, turning to see the man looking at the subjects with a sickly grin.

"Traitors, Muggles and fools," he replied sneering, "as _you _requested."

"I requested people," Severus spat, "These are less than animals. They disgust me. Get them cleaned and fed immediately," he barked.

Dolohov spat on the people and looked at Severus with defiance.

"This is my camp, and you will do as I say!" Severus ordered, "These people have a purpose and are to be fit for experiments! One Pepperup Potion would finish off half of this lot!" he yelled, "And I won't stand for insubordinance," he threatened glaring at Dolohov who shifted his weight menacingly. Severus smirked and added, "And neither will the Dark Lord!" And then left the room.

Dolohov watched Severus' retreating back carefully, his eyes appraising every move with a deep loathing.

xxxxxx

Severus jolted awake and gripped the side of the bed. The hazy room was foreign to him and he tried to remember his surroundings. He was dizzy and his head spun with images and colour. The smell brought him back.

The dank smell of the place threw him onto his feet. He was heaving in the bathroom and closed his eyes in pain. It made no difference, he could still see those eyes. They were pleading and smiling, compassionate and empathetic all at once. Burning through his skull. The pain was unbearable. He heaved again tasting the bile and stomach acids at the back of his throat.

Light was entering the room. It must be morning. The dreams had made him uncomfortable and apprehensive. He struggled to regain his breathing.

Today was the first experiment. He had prepared the lab himself the night before. It was difficult to establish a clean and scientific area with Dolohov breathing down his back. He pulled himself up from the cold tiled floor and got dressed.

"So has Pucey finished charming the grounds?" Severus asked the Death Eater beside him as he strode the length of the compound.

"Yes, and we made it Unplottable sir," he said with a thick accent.

"Good."

Severus walked into a small room that looked like a hospital room. It was split by glass down the middle. On one side sat three white chairs with three dirty men upon them and on the other side was a laboratory. Severus was looking forward to learning, scientific work.

"Let's clean these men up," he ordered the lab assistants.

They held their wands to the glass and removed the men's clothes. They didn't make an effort to hide themselves just sat as if bound to the chair. _They probably were_, Severus thought later. Water filled the room and washed the men and then they were sprayed with acid. It ripped off the top layer of their skin making them look red and rare.

Today he would start the pseudoscientific medical experiments. He disposed of thirty bodies in the first day. Testing developmental hexes. He had discovered a particularly nasty one, one that burnt the mucous membranes of the lungs, it had the same effect as the Choking Curse but far more sinister. New killing curses had to be developed if the Death Eaters were going to win in battle. Their curses had to be unknown to protect against a counter curse.

Severus didn't particularly enjoy his work. It was messy, but he could rationalise it, or at least he thought he could.

The end of the day was welcomed and he joined Dolohov in a walk of the camp. Dolohov was much friendlier this evening as Severus relayed to him the new developments. They went to the prisoner's room for a final count as they agreed they would need more prisoners.

The room was cleaner and the people dressed adequately but the stench remained. Unfortunately the roll call gave them names. Severus listened as they were called. Three Weasleys were present this confused him; as they were purebloods. He tried to keep his eyes averted, however, his face snapped up when he heard a soft 'here'.

It was her. The voice was like phoenix song, it rushed into his heart. He looked shocked and she met his eyes. She smiled kindly at him and he immediately felt sick. Her presence was warm and out of place. He felt frightened to be near her.

He left the room quickly when Dolohov had finished counting and stood outside. It was cold and dark even though it was only late afternoon.

Once they had left the bald man and returned to Severus' room he turned to Dolohov with calmer nerves.

"Weasleys?" Severus asked.

"Yes, they are against the cause, do you have a problem with that?" Dolohov demanded.

"No, no problem," Severus said quickly. "In fact it would be great to have their assistance with a potion that I'm working on to test the purity of blood, stop pricking my own finger for one thing," he joked.

Dolohov smiled, "Yes."

Severus nodded quietly, although there was one other question he needed to ask.

"Who's the girl, pale face, limp blonde hair, aqua eyes?"

Dolohov smiled sinisterly, "Oh Lallie," he said like she was a familiar friend, "You interested?"

"No," Severus replied a little to quickly as though the thought disgusted him. It did, rape did, he disliked it as he was uncomfortable in the presence of a woman. Even more so in her presence, she was giving him nightmares, but he couldn't say this to Dolohov. Instead he ordered, "Kill her."

"Why?" Dolohov asked.

"She smiled at me," Severus responded, "no respect."

Dolohov laughed, it was a madman's cackle, "No problem."


	8. Chapter Seven

AUTHORS NOTES  
Of course I have to thank Jennifer who beta'd practically the entire thing but there were others Kari, Heather, Catherine and others that I have lost in the reposting but have not forgotten. I also have to thank Textual Sphinx who's one shot "A Letter from Exile" was drawn upon in this chapter, it is a great story and my chapters resemblance is humble hero worship.

**Chapter Seven - Lessons**

_November 12th 1981_

Severus stared around the empty dungeon classroom. It was exactly as he had remembered it. His stomach gave a gentle growl as he swallowed a potion from his pocket. It was just nerves and the potion took off some of the edge. Dumbledore had wanted him to start teaching straight away.

He walked around the room again. Pacing, checking everything three times over. He had gone over lesson plans that evening. He was immaculate and organised yet strangely fearful. Children could do that. He tried to push away the memories of teaching Potions to other Death Eaters. They were a stupid lot. He hoped he could mold the students into fine brewers.

He had returned to the front desk when the second years started filing in. He drew himself up tall and stood with a deep practiced scowl on his face. He would not let them think he would be soft just because he was young. He was glad he started with second years, as tomorrow when he taught seventh years, he realised he would only be three years older than them. They would have even been at Hogwarts with him. Not that most of them remembered the quiet Slytherin, who had since changed to a barely recognisable man.

These students entered the room chatting but with one look at his brooding figure, they found their seats and sat quietly. The students appraised him nervously.

"I am Professor Snape," he started, and turned to write his name on the blackboard like he had seen teachers do.

As soon as his back was turned, talking broke out.

He spun around quickly and quelled them with a glare. _This is interesting_, he thought.

As he took the attendance, the class sat quietly. He hovered for a moment on the last name 'Charles Weasley' and assessed the small redhead in front of him.

"Today we will be brewing a Shrinking Solution. The main ingredient in this is Daisy Roots, can anyone tell me the properties of Daisy Roots?" he asked.

The class stared at him blankly.

"Well, what is Shrivelfig used for?"

Still no answer.

"What about Leech Juice?"

The small redhead raised his hand, "Isn't it a thickener?"

"Is that an answer or a question, Mr. Weasley?" Severus demanded.

The boy squirmed and the class started laughing.

"Silence!" Severus yelled, and his wand emitted a loud bang.

Twenty small faces looked nervously at him. Charles nearly fell off his chair, struck by the fear of God.

"Do you dunderheads know anything! Leech Juice is a thickener, as it 'sucks' the non-vital elements from potions. It also erodes the acidic properties of a potion so should be used with precision. To little or too much can render a potion useless or dangerous," he sneered on the word 'dangerous' and the class gasped in horror.

"Why aren't you all writing this down?" he demanded and the class scrambled to get their books and quills.

xxxxx

He entered the Great Hall for lunch with a scowl on his face. This look helped and as he approached the table, he noticed students staring at him and diving out of his way. He smiled inwardly, _tell your friends_, he thought, _let them know who is in charge._

The staff table was fuller this time yet Severus didn't bother introducing himself to the new faces, instead he sat at the end of the table and looked around for Hagrid.

Hagrid walked in with Dumbledore and McGonagall, looking grim as they took their seats.

"What's happened?" Severus asked Hagrid as the large man sat beside him.

"Finally got that Sirius Black," he said, his beady eyes lost and Severus stiffened beside him, "he got trapped by the small lad Pettigrew. Sirius killed him he did, one curse, blew apart the whole street, killed thirteen Muggles, too," Hagrid added, poking the food on the table.

Severus was shocked, yet oddly satisfied. He never liked Sirius Black. The boy was rash and stupid. Throw him to the Dementors, give him the kiss, he thought. After all, he knew what Black was capable of as Black had tried to kill him once before. He looked down toward the Headmaster with triumph look on his face but the old man was comforting McGonagall, who was whispering in shock, "I was so hard on the boy, nothing left of him."

Severus returned to his meal, as far as first days went, this one was not so bad.

"It's been a hard time for everyone, the Ministry is in a mess, but I can't let you avoid trial," Albus said to the younger man later that evening, "I have vouched for you. I'm confident Severus, I can convince them of your uses to us, and your help during the war can come to light with the Minister, we can keep you out of Azkaban I'm sure of it."

"What if it gets out?" Severus scowled. "We have to think of your reputation, not to mention the risk this will put me in."

"No one will know aside from myself and the Minister," he smiled, "Oh, and the Order."

Severus rolled his eyes. "What's left of them. Look Professor, don't be stupid, of course this is going to get out. There are people pointing fingers everywhere, I bear the Dark Mark!"

"Contact your old friends first then. Let them know what is going on," Albus urged, his eyes smiling, "That way you can tell them that you tricked the old doddery Dumbledore into protecting you. We can keep ourselves covered for his return."

"I can't keep playing both sides. Dumbledore, I'm tired," Severus complained. It was a dangerous line as it was, the war was over shouldn't he get some peace? Did he even deserve it?

"You're a young man Severus, and I have full confidence in you. We can hide you safely here and in a position ready to return," Albus said with a note of finality.

"So how are classes going, Severus?" he asked after a pause, shrewdly changing the subject.

"They know nothing. There is hope for the early years but fifth and up, nothing. Old Bunthorne was more of a fool that I thought as a student. Looking over his notes, and looking at the students he's 'taught', I can only name him a complete idiot."

Albus laughed, "Don't denigrate Hogwarts' teachers, Severus, he was a Professor and a Potions Master."

"No one respects me!" Severus complained.

"The students do," Dumbledore argued, "the teachers will warm up to you, Hagrid has certainly taken to you."

Severus scowled, "They fear me, it's not the same thing."

"I hear you keep an organised class," Albus said, glaring over his half-moon spectacles.

"At least I can get them to keep quiet. The lower years are quite on track. It's very different from the way I imagined it, not that I knew what I to expect," Severus replied earnestly.

"Try not to scare them, Minerva tells me you have been making the first years cry and she's calling foul play with house points. She feels you're favouring the Slytherins," Albus said.

"Have you noticed how very quickly the Sorting Hat recognises Slytherins? You and I know that they don't respond to mere Lemon Drops," Severus said. "They are a repressed group, suffer from the prejudices they are hated for. It isolates them, endangers them," he trailed off almost saying 'like it did me.'

Albus merely nodded in a sad understanding.

"Can you blame me for favouring them?" he asked trying to keep the bitterness from his voice, "They need some unconditional approval, and if I keep them winning I could reduce their excuses for bitterness. Believe me, Albus, you will find no better ally against the dark forces than the Slytherin who turns out well. Theirs is a hard-won virtue. They can't pretend that evil is somewhere _out there_. They understand what they're up against. I'm trying not to speak for myself here; Decency and kindness and all those virtues you Gryffindors take for granted in yourselves didn't come as fairy gifts at my christening."

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, reflectively thinking he would make a good Head of House, Severus didn't want them to have no option, or have their Head of House be oblivious to their problems and needs, as had been his experience. "Just don't curse anyone, for heaven's sake."

Snape laughed, "That's a hard task. The Gryffindors are a complete bunch of dunderheads who can't even stand a cauldron up the right way."

Dumbledore frowned, "But do you need to be so harsh? If you perhaps wear something other than black it might seem less threatening. Maybe you could let some fresh air in the dungeons?"

Severus rolled his eyes, "Perhaps I could give out sweets for correct answers," he said.

"That's the trick!" Dumbledore smiled and nodded, missing the sarcasm.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight - Deaths**

_Auchou__, 24th December 1979_

Unicorn blood, Severus discovered, when mixed with furosemide produced very interesting results. He had also discovered a potion that would cure it. By administering Phoenix Tears one could easily counteract the degenerative properties of the complex potion.

_Damn!_ It was too simple.

He mused over the desk in front of him. The last two months had been largely uneventful. His steps forward in research had been smaller due to the ongoing war. The Ministry was still powerful especially in terms of research. They had the great minds working for them for a start. After many initial successes his work had come to a stalemate. The Ministry advancements put a continued strain on Severus. If it hadn't been for Rookwood and other Ministry spies they would have fallen. The battle was becoming more urgent, more deadly, and Severus was more at a loss.

He had however developed a potion to test the purity of blood. It had been a simple enough task and was now used by Death Eaters to test the purity of their spouses before marriage. Unfortunately two of the Weasleys had died in the preliminary testing due to unforeseen (although easily counteracted) problems. Severus had recorded his research meticulously. This had earned him the needed rewards from the Dark Lord. Severus' need for respect, recognition and power almost overcome him in this time.

He used the notation of 'subjects' to take a step back from the reality of his work. The research lab after the construction of a lieu of new curses had small fatality rates. The beauty of being in research is that trapped in the lab you couldn't see the end results of your work. Severus told himself he was working for the greater good when he was really just hoping to gain favour to get some more of that power he needlessly craved after the first taste.

This desire was driving him mad. He still had haunting dreams, the same colours, same emotions, and same terror surfaced night after night. By throwing himself into his endless pursuit of knowledge he sought to drown out these emotions.

His victims' faces became nothing more that failed hypothesis. Fortunately Severus' work seemed based more on statistics, rules and numbers than on lives. He neatly recorded the death of a subject in his margin. A tally, as these deaths were rudimentary to the end results.

After unlocking Methyl Isociyonate, he was squeamish although he failed to admit it. That potion had been one of the more frightening to watch. He stood safely on his side of the glass as he watched the Muggle on the other side swallow the potion on his _Imperio_. The effect was immediate and unstoppable.

Firstly, there had been the body's natural response to the poison - vomiting. This did little good but burn the insides on the way up like it had on the way down. The potion had already seeped into the flesh by then. The burning throat made it difficult for the man to breathe and his fingers turned a pale blue. It still managed to keep him alive though, however he could not talk, this pleased Severus as he hated to hear them plea for their lives. It was overdone and unoriginal. The burning began outside and he could see the eyes and skin whither before him. This burning would ultimately effect a person's mental state; the man stumbled around for a minute reaching out to nothingness. Desperate in a pain that would soon overcome him. Severus gripped his wand beside him almost ready to show mercy but death was not far off. After the skin burnt, the flesh had nowhere to hide. It corroded easily without protection. He would die from his slow disintegration or from blood loss. Whatever came first. It was a long death, a slow death, a death that Dolohov would be proud of, and were he here to watch, aroused by. This particular advancement had pleased the Dark Lord to no end.

His reward left him high for three days. He thought he would never come back down. He craved more, and pushing boundaries in a lab excited Severus in a new way. It was slow now, he was facing more difficult challenges and his mind constantly sat with the reward. He was trying to unlock eternal life for Lord Voldemort. In the meantime he had developed life strengthening potions and life lengthening potions using vile methods and Dark Arts, but he was no closer to his final goal.

He threw down his lab equipment and left the building. The place still stunk of death and as he walked around the concrete compound he had fleeting thoughts of leaving. Not that he wouldn't return. He needed this. He needed him. The Dark Lord who's punishments were nothing when compared to his promises, his rewards. Severus shivered and swallowed a potion from his pocket. His eyes fluttered thankfully as if clapping for the sweet release.

He had to slow down his own potion intake lately, as each hit left him with vivid images of that woman. Lallie Dolohov had called her.

Severus soon reached the cages of magical creatures. He had been using them in potions. The animals had been better cared for than the mudbloods. They could sense the place too. The animals could sense him coming to claim them. Their fear made them mount one another at the last minute.

He turned away rubbing his temples. It was all too much for one day. He would go to sleep but those dreams haunted him as well. Seeing aqua eyes and unwavering compassion. He just retired to his chambers and sat in the dark. He let it consume him. In the end it didn't matter if he was awake or asleep, nightmares always consumed him.

xxxxxxx

"Make no mistake, at some point we wizards must take action in the defense of our Magical, Racial and Political beliefs. We have long known the effect of the Muggle-born, the Muggle-born is the ferment of the decomposition of people. This means that it is in the nature of the Muggle-born to contaminate and weaken, because he lacks altogether any idea of working for the common good," Voldemort was saying to a crowd of loyal Death Eaters.

Severus' position in the inner circle had him standing directly in front of the Dark Lord he could feel his power radiate off him. Severus was anxious, he was wanting.

This meeting was like the others. Voldemort would award or punish his followers. The cause was almost secondary to Severus as he waited to be acknowledged, finally he would have a dreamless sleep.

It was said that in Nazi Germany there were political and social conditions that existed which enabled its success. The German condition it was called, the social structure at the time had placed a strong importance of accepting and trusting authority. They had a well established government run education system, strong patriotism and a strong economy. When people reflected on the time and wondered how the atrocities against humanity could ever have happened, how "people" could do this they came to a small and scary conclusion. They were ready, they were ingrained, it was there, Hitler like Voldemort was an awakening.

The old bloodlines were like that, conditioned almost, Severus turned to Voldemort attentive and believing. He hadn't thought any other way. These were established traditions, educated people, wealthy people with a strong sense of duty. Of course some joined for other reasons, like a fear or a lure of the Dark Arts. But on the main these people wanted to be here.

_Damn_, stupid Muggles, their evils! _Damn_ Sirius Black, _damn_ stupid Muggleloving Albus Dumbledore, the man who didn't value his life. _Damn them!_ Severus felt the real anger and hatred around him. It was powerful, it was sincere. These weren't the delusions of a power crazy man. These were the feelings of the people, feelings that they didn't know existed, feelings that the Dark Lord used to gain their respect and service for his ultimate goal.

Severus needed the Dark Lord, he needed that power, that thrill. He waited restlessly as the Lord walked around the circle. Blessing some and paining others. And when he stopped in front of him Severus practically fell forward.

Voldemort smiled; Severus' hands were shaking and brow moist. His mouth parched with excitement. Voldemort stepped back and Severus was frightened for a moment.

"Our youngest Death Eater," he said loud enough for the group to hear. It was true, he was the youngest of the inner circle.

"My Lord," Severus murmured, kneeling as his body started to spasm in anticipation.

"I need to thank you for your new curses, Severus, eighteen new killing curses and they said you could only brew potions," he smiled, the madhatter's grin.

"Anything for you, my lord," Severus replied, and took in a deep breath, sucking the air around him to steady his head.

Voldemort swooped down and kissed him. The fire burnt straight though. The Dark Lord's wand was held at Severus' chest as he murmured quiet Latin. Pleasure soared though his skin and flooded his being. He earned this, he needed this. He passed out for a dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine - Ministry Murder**

_Ministry of Magic, 15th December 1981_

The Ministry room was dimly lit, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets. There were rows and rows of empty seats facing an empty chair. The chair had chains around it and Severus was glad he wasn't sitting in it. Instead he, Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic sat in the front row.

The Minister was the oldest man Severus had seen. He was a hundred and seventy five and old enough to be Dumbledore's grandfather. In fact, they were old friends. This was some comfort and the two argued while Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"He is already bound by my Sanctuary," said Dumbledore to the Minister in a firm voice.

"But he is a proven Death Eater," the Minister fumbled, coughing and sounding every one of his years. The two older men talked as if Severus were absent.

"Who has served the last year and a half acting for the Ministry at great personal risk, you didn't see him fit to carry off to Azkaban last year when I told you I had sanctioned a Death Eater spy," Dumbledore continued his eyes flashing.

"We can't break a Sanctuary, you know that," the Minister said despondently and turned to look at Dumbledore. "But the children!" he continued pleading, "You can't have him teach. I understand his life is in your hands now Albus and I have been lenient but people won't approve."

"People won't have to know Ramos. Severus has gone to a great deal of hiding both his persona's and you don't have to tell them," Albus said, conspiratorially imploring the Minister for assistance.

The Minister looked at Albus and shook his head, "Oh Albus, I will issue the papers and he will not have to testify on these arrests, your word is enough. Don't let it harm you Albus, I'm an old man now and people look to you to follow after me."

"You a great man Ramos," Albus smiled, "I could never replace you."

"I know," the old man joked, "But better you than that upstart Barty Crouch." He coughed again and his face turned pale as he gasped for air.

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore looked concerned and conjured a glass of water.

"Yes, now the war's over I'm afraid the years are catching up with me," the Minister said and looked to Severus, "come on now boy." The group stood and left the room. The Minister handed Dumbledore the papers that were already signed.

Dumbledore smiled at him, "You already knew," he chuckled.

"Just wanted to make sure," the Minister said, "Now hurry up and file them before Severus has to pass the Dementors."

Dumbledore quickly obeyed the Minister's orders and hurried up ahead. Severus stayed behind and helped the Minister walk back to his office. It was a slow walk as he kept having coughing fits.

As Severus helped the old man into his office chair, he poured him another glass of water and offered a potion from his pocket.

"Endurance Potion," Severus said by way of explanation.

The Minister swallowed it quickly and the coughing desisted. His eyes blazed with the potion's energy. Severus smiled and turned to leave. The old Minister caught Severus' arm on the way out and he whispered threateningly with a voice that sent send shivers down his spine reminding Severus of the Minister's old powers, "Don't you dare let young Albus down now boy, because if you do I'll find you."

xxxxxxx

Minerva McGonagall watched with beady eyes as the Malfoy eagle owl swooped into the staff room at lunchtime the next day. Minerva wasn't thrilled about the bird's arrival as she was aware of the family's reputation in the Dark Arts. She watched Severus keenly, as per usual, his face was masked and offered no response. He read his letter, folded it neatly and tucked it into the folds of his black robes. She was more on edge of late. She had been sure that the Minister would get Severus off the staff; she was annoyed at the man's softness in his old age. After all there was reason enough to believe the man was a Death Eater, but even Dumbledore wouldn't be that stupid.

Severus tossed over the news of his mail at the other end of the room. It was news regarding Death Eater activities. Severus had been seeing Lucius and maintaining old circles trying to get information. It was difficult, but the Malfoys were having him over this weekend to celebrate his Sanctuary at Hogwarts.

He quickly drew out some parchment and a quill. Hastily scribbling a response, he looked up to glare at Minerva who was watching him like a hawk. He got up and left the staff room, sweeping down to the Dungeons

She didn't trust him one bit. And as the young man got up and left the room, a grey tabby cat patted down to the dungeons.

xxxxxx

The Malfoy Manor was not as elegant as one expected. They were the richest family in the wizarding world and had mountains of breathtaking real estate. The family manor however was old. Originally built during the Dark Ages it had more dungeons than rooms and was drafty. Narcissa's touch was evident. Severus had been here many times before and the place had changed. It was friendlier and open. The sitting room had new furniture and Severus was sure that Malfoy Senior would have rolled over in his grave had he seen it. Lucius however looked relaxed in the new setting.

Lucius was sitting back in the proud red velvet chair nursing his son and laughing with the Lestranges. Severus stood in the doorway observing the scene. It was rather an anti-climax as two years ago in this exact setting they had been torturing Muggles and screams filled the house. Now only Lucius' laughter echoed off the stone walls. The House-Elf made a squeak and left, the group looked up at him.

"Ah, Severus," Lucius greeted, "come sit down, Narcissa was just getting some tea."

"Lucius," he nodded, "Rodolpus, Bellatrix," he greeted the Lestranges.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Rodolpus said, standing up to shake hands with Severus. Bellatrix too stood and kissed Severus on the mouth, he drew back quickly in shock. She smiled and Severus moved back to sit in the tall chair closest to the door, all the while Bellatrix appraised him in a way that made Severus uneasy.

Narcissa entered the room with the tea things. Lucius stood to help her and handed Severus the baby.

"This is young Draco," Lucius said, handing over the chubby baby pompously. Severus looked at him disdainfully, he hated children, and held the boy away from him. They handed out the tea.

"He showed yesterday," Lucius said proudly, "Floated after I dropped him from the second floor." Severus wondered how many times that Lucius had dropped his baby.

"A product of pure breeding I say," voiced Bellatrix.

"I quite agree," Rodolpus said.

"Hmm," murmured Severus with a look of pain on his face. Narcissa laughed at him as she took the baby to his relief.

"At times I think that Azkaban would be preferable to that old fool's school," Severus said. The group laughed kindly.

"So what is news?" Severus asked. Bellatrix shot him a dark look.

"Karkaroff was captured yesterday," Rodolpus said, shaking his head. "Of course he would be one of the first, stupid man, you worked with him didn't you?"

"Yes," nodded Severus, "Not so much of a loss."

"My lawyers tended to Avery, Nott and Goyle; their families have been cleared," Lucius smiled. It paid to be his ally.

"Any news where Rosier and Wilkes are hiding?" asked Severus.

"They were your school friends right?" Bellatrix mocked, "I expected you to know, after all they were visiting some of your family last week," she grinned knowingly.

"In Europe?" Severus guessed right, "I don't talk to family there." He was however genuinely surprised.

"They are all getting together for the common goal, Severus," she replied, "Rumors are our master is there."

"He's not," Severus retorted. "My family and I might not be on speaking terms, but they are unlikely choices for the Dark Lord."

"I agree," said Narcissa, surprising everyone, "The Dark Lord won't approach any of the powerful families. Mother Black has seen to that, he simply can't trust them to not take his powers, wherever he is, he is alone."

"He can trust me! We have to find him!" Bellatrix burst angrily at her sister.

"Who will do that?" asked Severus sarcastically, "I'm working at Hogwarts for heaven's sake, it was difficult enough to get _here_, the Malfoys have the baby to watch and trying to keep as many possible out of Azkaban."

"I have some friends who are willing to search," Rodolpus said and Severus began to worry. He didn't let it show as Bellatrix was still watching him.

"I can give you money but I'm still working at the Ministry," Lucius said, "I can't leave it would look suspicious."

Rodolpus smiled gratefully but Bellatrix looked livid. She was obviously angry that they weren't all leaving now to search for the Dark Lord.

"We should take care not to be in correspondence," Severus interrupted before the Lestranges could say anything, "Teachers noticed the Malfoy Eagle Owl."

Lucius nodded, "We'll use postal owls then."

"I think it is time we took leave," said Bellatrix and she stood hastily. Rodolpus hurried to follow her as she left the room.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he called as he left the room.

Lucius pinched his brow.

"I hope they find him," he said finally.

"Me too," agreed Severus, "Any idea who they are working with?"

Lucius shook his head, "Must be new recruits. You could ask Rabastan, he and Rodolpus used to be close."

Severus nodded, "I had better get back to Hogwarts."

"You're a smart man Severus," Lucius grinned, "use your new position wisely."

The men shook hands and Severus thanked Narcissa and left. The walk back to the school from the Dark Forest was chilling. Severus picked up his pace as he marched across the grounds, above the castle looked overwhelming espically at night when light flickered across the lawns. Severus quick breaths were fogging before him, for a moment he paused - he thought he was being watched - turning back to check, he saw nothing but a lone cat run across the field.

xxxxxx

_The Daily Prophet, Special Bulletin Addition_

The Minister of Magic was murdered today. The incident took place in the Ministers office where he was found slumped over his desk. The cause of death is yet to be determined but the Aurors suspect it was posioning. A potion bottle was identified next to the Minister but tests have yet to proove any evidence. The Minister was age one hundred and seventy five. He leaves four children, seventeen grandchildren, thirty-six great grandchildren, sixty-four great great grandchildren and his beloved toad……more on page two. 

xxxxx

In that same issue it was reported that Barty Crouch had ordered the Aurors to kill instead of capture suspected Death Eaters.

Sirius Black was thrown to the Dementors without trial.

In short, the wizarding world and Ministry were in chaos.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten - Back from the Dead**

_Aushou__, 15th June 1980_

The lab was empty and Severus slowly stirred the potion. It was a drab gray and bubbled thickly.

"Just place it on the table there," he gestured with one free hand as he heard someone enter the lab presumably with his lunch.

"Okay sir," she answered.

He spun around so fast it could have snapped his neck. Her voice still echoed softly in his head. It had been almost a year since he had seen her. That wasn't true, he still saw her in his dreams occasionally.

"You," he said, standing and walking over towards her.

He grabbed and spun her around. Sure enough it was those eyes. They were empty and lost, controlled by Imperius but he could have recognised them anywhere. She dropped her head and moved toward the door.

"Lallie," he called her name. "Stop," he commanded, grabbing her wrists and shaking them. She seemed to be fighting momentarily and then the gaze slipped back. He held her so tightly he could see her hands losing colour. Her eyes flashed with understanding and ignorance, trapped in between moments of sanity and not.

"Ah, Severus I was waiting for you," she said, looking up to him.

"How do you know my name?"

"Do you like your lunch, I will give compliments to the House-elves," she said absentmindedly and then in a deep voice. "They're dead. All of them. Murdered. Help me please," she pleaded.

"You can fight this, who's dead?" he asked, and then held his wand to her face, "_Finite Incantum!_" It did nothing, her eyes lolled back in her head.

"It's not abstract, not anymore," she snapped, shaking her head as tears formed in those eyes.

"What?" Severus asked confused.

"Just the lunch, now I have to go, thank you, good day, he calls," she said, formally picking up the lunch tray.

"Who?"

"My master Blair," she smiled, it looked wrong, fake, eerie.

"Wait, stop," he called as she moved toward the door.

"Evil," her eyes blazed and she spun around to face him, "it's real, it's tangible."

It held her in place for a moment and her eyes flashed a brilliant blue. He was drawn to her. But her face slackened as if suddenly remembering something and she left.

"Stop!" he ordered. "_Finite Incantum!_" This time when he shouted his wand snapped an electric blue. But she had already left. Severus noticed he was shaking. He don't know how she did this too him, how she made him feel so weak, he hadn't felt like this since his childhood and he hated being so out of control. He rasped as his mind spun out of control.

xxxxx

Soon, he was furious.

_A direct order, disobeyed!_ He stormed out, looking for Dolohov, looking for retribution for these relocated feelings.

Severus found Dolohov playing cards with other Death Eaters on the perimeter.

"What the hell?" he demanded.

Dolohov looked up from his cards smiling evilly. Severus felt his back give an involentary shiver. He held a long cigar in his hand and blew smoke towards Severus - to defy him. The others seemed to quiver under Severus' wrath even though it wasn't directed at them.

"You have disobeyed a direct order!" Severus demanded again, his young pale face flushed with colour.

Dolohov just smiled and continued playing his game. "I chose to take another option, one to take the smile from her face, permanently," he laughed.

"What? What have you done?" Severus grilled.

"It's not your job to worry about these things," Dolohov chuffed, as he took a long draw from his cigar.

"Tell me," Severus yelled, ripping the cards from the man's hands. Dolohov was mad. Dolohov stood up. The others took this as their signal to leave and fled the scene.

"I only answer to one man," he whispered, and the smoke rose from his mouth, dancing in front of his face.

"And he asked you to answer to me." The two now stood so close that Severus could taste the man's cigar.

Dolohov shrugged, "I don't see why it matters to you. She is quite a handy servant. You find that people are more willing to comply when they have nothing to fight for. Her family, friends, they are dead now, oh, how her little cousin screamed," he remembered fondly.

It sickened Severus to his stomach.

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded, drawing his wand. I'm not like this, he pleaded to himself. "You dared to disobey my orders! _Crucio_"

Dolohov fell to the ground. His body twitched uncontrollably and he let out an animal's cry. Severus watched keenly as the man's cigar caught the hem of his robe on fire. The man's screams were violent, then there was laughter. It should have killed him when Severus released it. Severus turned and fled the scene. Dolohov lay on the ground gasping for air and still laughing.

xxxxxx

He couldn't concentrate on his work the next couple of days. He was running on no sleep. His eyes faded in and out. Everything sounded so very far away. He was extremely tired.

"Severus," a whisper.

"Severus," a whisper.

"Wake up!"

It was definitely nightfall. He was dreaming again, he could see her face. She was smiling at him.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked stupidly.

"Because you're going to save us," she whispered, "I've seen it."

It sounded so real. He lifted his hand to her face. Her skin was soft under his sensitive fingers.

"You're awake, Severus. There is not much time," she pleaded as she took his hand in hers.

"What?" he questioned, shaking his head. Everything was still foggy. He could see the lab now coming into focus, and she was still there, her face pressed in front of him pleading.

"Listen, he'll notice me gone, you have to pay attention," she urged desperately, "You're going to save us, owl the Ministry, then get out, I will cover for you."

"What?" he was more awake now and more confused, "In case you have forgotten I'm working for the other side."

She just smiled.

"I'm a Seer. I know you'll do the right thing," she stated simply as if there was no reason to doubt it.

"I highly doubt that, there hasn't been a real Seer since the oracle herself," Severus declared, mentally confirming that she was completely insane. Maybe it was one of Dolohov's jokes trying to get back at him.

Her eyes didn't lie though. They were a gentle calm blue.

"I can guarantee you that I am, that's why Blair didn't kill me. They have been trying to get me to work for Voldemort. Of course, I refused," she quipped, her soft floaty voice taking on a hard edge.

"So you're pure blooded then? Why stand against him?" Severus asked.

She stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra head. "Why?" she asked and repeated herself, "Why?! -"

"- The man's a lunatic. You're a smart man. I can't see why you're so trapped up on the matter of blood. Even your precious 'Lord' is a half-blood," she mocked.

"You're lying," Severus hissed. "Get out."

To his surprise, she did.

xxxxx

He saw her everywhere. Walking with the other prisoners. Delivering his meals. In his dreams.

_That bitch_, he thought, _that manipulative bitch._

He had felt this type of anger before. It was familiar, like a welcome guest. It kept him moving, getting the job done. He even stopped badgering the guards about giving the prisoners proper meals. Hate welled inside him. A proverbial friend.

"Severus," she gasped, as she dropped his plate unceremoniously to the lab floor.

He smiled at her weakness.

"I am conducting tests," he said and focused again on the three men on the other side of the glass. They were red and raw from the 'cleaning'; he was developing new hexes again.

"You can't do this," she pleaded, grabbing his arm, more to steady herself than to shake him. She was in shock at the graphic scene before her.

"Why not?" he demanded. "They're only Muggles."

"It's wrong, it's evil." Her blue eyes were wide with fear.

"You cannot talk of things in black and white, Lallie," he spat her name like a nasty taste in his mouth. "There are grays and the lesser of two evils. Someone has to fight for the freedoms you will take for granted in our pure state. There are worse things than violence, such as having nothing worth fighting for."

"And what are these great principals of yours, what are you fighting for?" she challenged, "purity of blood? Hate? Fear?"

"As good a reason as any," Severus answered, turning back to his subjects as he cast a hex in their direction, he didn't want her to see he was unsettled. The man noticed though and his eyes grew round and pleading as he withered screaming on the other side of the glass.

"Stop, please," the man begged. Lallie shook uncontrollably beside Severus.

"You'll lose," she whispered.

He ignored her, making notes on his parchment talking to himself, "Not quick enough, still that terrible pleading."

"What are you looking for?" Lallie asked.

"For you to get out of my sight," he barked.

Lallie didn't move; she looked at the man slumped on the ground on the other side of the glass his body still convulsing in pain. Tears welled in her eyes, making her look helpless. She went to faint but Severus caught her in a reflex before she hit the ground.

Severus felt his chest tighten. He was uncomfortable and hastily dropped her. She woke with the thump on the floor pulling her legs underneath her as she edged closer to the mirror like a restless tide. The man was dead. Blood trickled from his mouth, and his face was contorted in a look of pain. The colour had already left him. Lallie whimpered before him.

"He's so small," she whispered as she put her hand to the glass, as if the man was sick instead of dead, as if loud voices would disturb him.

"Can't you see you're losing already?" she asked gently as she turned to face Severus.

He looked down at her, trying to remember feelings of hate, but they ebbed away at the sight of her tear stained cheek. She was vulnerable and exposed with her small frame hunched upon the glass. Her innocence was stabbing him.

She blinked away her tears pushing her body up from the ground using the lab table to steady herself. She continued speaking her voice soft and calm, "Hate always loses, it thinks that's it's as strong as love but it's not. Hate is based on what you don't know and are afraid of. Love exists in what you know entirely and are prepared to face. That's what makes it so powerful. True love is in its entirety, is ultimate power, for only it can conquer hate and fear."

Her words stung in Severus' mind as she turned her back, disappointed, and left the room.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven - Loyalty**

_Romania, 3rd January 1982_

Rissum Rosier was not alone, bad guys never are. It was a cold night and the dark spidery trees whispered conspiratorially around the small group. They stood outside the tall doors of the castle banging for shelter. The stone walls of the castle were high and they couldn't see any light. This part of the forest was dark and deep, to Muggles the castle looked like ruins but it was as grand as ever.

Frank Longbottom nodded to his wife. He had checked everything twice and the group remained unknowing of their presence. After receiving a mysterious tip off they were prepared for an ambush on the group. Mad Eye Moody, the Ministry's famous Auror, was with them yet this did not settle Frank's nerves.

He was a very respected man, provided a brave face to the world, no one ever knew him as anything else. But his fear was tangible; his wand grip was so tight he thought he might snap his wand. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he watched Mad Eye move in closer securing the perimeter. It wasn't always this bad but since his wife, Catherine, had given birth to their son Neville his fear had increased tenfold.

Frank noted the group was settled in position. Mad Eye cast a small flicker of light and the three whispered a charm that cast a barrier over the area. None were able to Apparate; this worked both ways. The group hadn't noticed.

"Let us in!" demanded Rissum Rosier, thumping again on the grand doors of the castle.

"Maybe they aren't home," said Ivan quietly, looking around nervously, something felt strangely out of place. Rissum did not desist.

"The boy could be right," Mulciber agreed.

"Shut up!" Rissum spat, finally turning away from the door and looking at the men around him.

"We can split up and look for entry," Mulciber offered to avoid Rissum's wrath.

"Ureic said that the family had all but left the region," Wilkes whispered.

"That bastard cannot trick me with his deceit; he was too drunk to notice pink Hippogriffs. Anyway, that whole family is bad blood," Rissum bellowed.

"Maybe we should ask Severus? He's ok," said Ivan to his father.

"The boy is sanctioned at Hogwarts or have you all but forgotten! This is the last of the Dark Arts families, this is where he will be," Rissum snapped. The two younger boys stepped back as Rissum and Mulciber started whispering.

"The Dark Lord is here, I can feel it," Rissum was saying.

"Something is here," whispered Ivan to Wilkes, standing closer to the hiding place of Frank. Wilkes nodded at his school friend the young boys becoming nervous.

"Do you think we will find him?" asked Wilkes, his eyes darting to the bushes where he thought he heard a noise.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," said Frank and he stepped out of the bush.

"_Expelliamus_" Frank shouted, as he caught the boy's wands. This spell was echoed by Catherine and Mad Eye as they jumped from their hiding places, wands drawn.

Rissum dived from Catherine's blast and tried to Disapparate.

"Can't do that mate," growled Moody, "best to come quietly now."

"Never!" Rissum shouted, throwing hexes at Moody. The young men, with lack of an alternative, ran at Frank and tried to bowl him over on the ground. Trapping his wand arm, it was a battle of hunched fists. Moody and Rissum were dueling a fierce battle while Catherine had already bound Mulciber with magic rope.

She ran to her husband protectively. Standing beside the rolling group with her wand poised, she was careful not to cast a hex on Frank. Ivan jumped up with his wand. Catherine was so shocked she faulted for just a moment. This was enough time for Wilkes to stand as well. Frank was bloodied and unconscious on the ground. They had her surrounded.

Catherine gently raised her hands, "You don't want to do this boys," she whispered.

Wilkes smiled, "Yes we do." He took a step toward Catherine. She was breathing heavily with fear. Moody and Rissum were too involved to notice anything amiss.

"_Avada__ Ked..._" Wilkes began but Frank was quicker. Waking at the nick of time, he surveyed the scene and took the only available option. Wilkes fell to the ground dead.

Ivan was shocked with grief and spun from the Longbottoms and began to run. The chase was frightening and Catherine and Frank called hexes that bounced off the dark thin trees. Ivan could still hear his father's voice and hid behind a rock not wanting to leave him but too filled with fear to do anything else. He sobbed as he heard silence fill the void.

All wondered what had happened and Catherine and Frank ran back to help Moody. They found Rissum bound next to Mulciber. Moody had a large gash under his right eye that was bleeding profusely.

"Alastor," Catherine called in surprise, holding a torn piece from her dress to his face. She murmured incantations to stop the bleeding. Frank stood over Wilkes' body solemnly.

"You did what you could mate," Moody grunted affectionately, "Let's get these two back to the Ministry."

"He's just so young," Frank muttered as he shook his head. Wilkes was in his twenties yet in death looked much younger, fear was still etched on his features and it made Frank sick.

They gathered up the two bound Death Eaters to leave by portkey when Ivan entered the clearing. He was warped by grief and a young irrational bravery usually isolated to Gryffindors.

"Let them go," he ordered, tears in his eyes, wand drawn at Catherine, "I'll kill her, I swear."

Alastor Moody wasn't the best in the business for nothing. Although he avoided killing at all costs, there were times when lives were on the line and it left no other option. Brandishing his wand, he hurled the killing curse to the grief stricken young man who fell to the ground instantly.

"Come on," Moody urged quietly, "Let's go." Silently the group left the clearing with the two prisoners.

The two young men lay together on the floor of the dark woods. Their eyes open, one pair in fear, the other in grief.

xxxxxx

_Hogwarts, 4th January 1982_

Severus did not want to leave his quarters today. He shook on the bed in grief.

Ivan and he had been friends since that first day on the Hogwarts Express. It was enough that he had the guilt of innocent people on his hands. Those faces seemed to blend in and out, never cursing him, only weeping or begging. But this face was far more upsetting, it was laughing, smiling, trusting. He had betrayed his best friends, no more honor than the filthy family turncoat Sirius Black. He looked down at the ugly brand on his arm, what would you know about loyalty? What do promises mean from you?

Friends murdered by his hand, or might as well have been. He had told Dumbledore where to find them, he had even warned his family to not answer that gate that night. His family, who he didn't speak to, his family who shunned him for being born out of wedlock, his family who had fled to live among dark creatures and reveled in Dark Arts but had the hide to judge him to flee him. His family, who like Dumbledore, were obsessed with the end result and would do anything to get there, including sacrificing him.

xxxxxx

_"The Dark Arts aren't fundamentally evil," his father blurted once in between drinks. His father flicked his wand in his hands as he reached for the bottle of Odgens. A young Severus waiting patiently to be excused for the evening._

"But, why are they forbidden?" he had asked nervously, never sure when his fathers answers would turn violent.

"They were developed with the intent of personal gain or with the intent to harm another person. Yet they are just as important, as powerful, as sacred as any other magic. You don't have to use them that way. Sometimes, helping yourself is helping others, sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind, sometimes," he whispered and then threw back a double shot Severus hanging onto every word.

"Sometimes?" Severus prompted. The old man scowled and slammed the glass on the table.

"Sometimes, you have to fight fire with fire," Ureric Snape said angrily, the old man looked like he was about to hit Severus so the boy ducked his head.

The blow never came instead a weary voice, "Severus, go to bed."

xxxx

There had been no love lost between the two, but the man, or what was left of him had still been his father. He shook his head as if to clear it, trying to empty his mind of his father's notions of the greater good. It was always a means to an end. A means to an end. And what a sticky end Severus had found himself in.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve - This was the way the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper.**

_Aushou__, 21st July 1980_

The sun fell unsullied onto Severus' back. He followed the road that lay gently over the serene countryside. The day was clear and tranquil, the hills covered with friendly red poppies, smelling fresh and sweet. He walked hand in hand with his lover and he had the unfamiliar feeling of laughter in his chest and his face fell in a lopsided happy grin. A warm blissful shiver traveled up his arm and into his heart.

"I've seen it," she whispered softly, turning to look at him her blue eyes glittering.

It was another of his dreams and she had returned. Yet, this one was different - it did not haunt him like the others. She wasn't begging, crying, with eyes full of pity or remorse for a lost soul. She was laughing, and what was more surreal he was laughing too.

The two walked up to a small russet cottage. It was gentle and ivy hugged it's perimeter. Soothing smells of baking wafted out of the open window. The white lace curtains waved in the wind. Severus walked up and pushed the gate open.

As he walked the garden path he heard the sounds of crunching gravel beneath his feet. He felt a sudden chill and looked up to watch the sky become darker as it lost a battle with clouds overhead.

He turned and looked for Lallie. She had disappeared. An ominous feeling fell into his stomach and each step toward the cottage was cautious and uncertain. The sounds of the crunching grew louder and the sky darker and hostile. The trees leaned in reaching for him with their thin skeletal fingers with each step as he came closer to the porch.

Upon the porch he stood in silence as he looked at the door which was ajar.

"Lallie," he whispered uncertainly. His cry echoed with a sense of foreboding.

"It's not abstract anymore," her voice whispered although she was nowhere to be seen. "Evil - it's real, it's tangible."

He spun around searching for her and drifted closer to the door. Hesitating he drew a deep breath before pushing his arm to open the door and take a small step inside.

The scene was frightening. He could see a family of four - lying dead on the ground. Seemingly unmarked they lay where they fell when the curse was uttered. He knew it was pointless but he went to check if they were truly dead.

The first person he reached was the daughter, her arms wrapped protectively around a pink doll, in death her grip had tightened. The mother, still wearing her apron, looked shocked and frightened. Her husband lay beside her. He looked strong and gentle at the same time. He was broad and yet tears still glistered on his weathered face yet to dry. His son was next to him, the youngest of them all, he contradictory looked peaceful.

"He's so small," Severus heard her whisper.

"Where are you?" he asked looking around the open cottage.

"Love always wins," he heard again, "True love fears nothing, hate is based on fear."

"Stop it!" he demanded falling to the floor.

"What are you looking for?"

"For you to shut up!" Severus screamed.

For a moment there was silence. Then there was screaming, loud and violent, like a flashback, the father, the children, the mother, were screaming for their lives. This time Severus was screaming along with them.

XxxxxxxX

The group had gathered atop a cliff. It was the same cliff where Severus had begun his years as a Death Eater. The group had swelled in numbers despite Ministry efforts and resistance.

Standing in front of the Dark Lord Severus watched him talk with passion about Muggle fools. About hatred, a hated, a hate, one that Severus recognised. He hung his head in shame. This hate, Lallie had said would lose. And, now Severus could see, the hatred had only spread, not changed, not wavered, not defeated in the years of his loyal service. His thoughts were distracted by memories of her; he cursed himself for it.

He couldn't concentrate this time all the words sounded foreign to him. Voldemort's preaches, the wind, the waves, all became one. His mind confused and nervous he waited patiently for the meeting to cease. He had tried to escape the meeting as soon as it was over yet his voice was called.

"Severus," Voldemort beckoned, as others left the meeting, "I hear that you have made new advances with your potion for ultimate survival," and his eyes glittered hungrily, "are you making good use of the facilities I have provided for you?"

"Yes my Lord," Severus answered stepping up in front of the Lord. Severus could feel the mans familiar power radiate off him and it made his eyes wide. In anticipation and for the first time since his induction on this very hilltop - fear.

"Blair tells me that you have been arguing over a Lovegood. He tells me that you had told him he was not to make meat of women in your camp."

_He must have been taking notes_, Severus thought bitterly, _because that's exactly what I said._

"There is potential in her and he thinks only of her 'sexual' benefits," Severus retorted.

Voldemort considered Severus closely for a minute. Breathing his scent in deep, trying to find deceit or betrayal. Words echoed in his head, they were his masters, _your camp Severus? Where's your sense of fun, Severus?_ Severus looked up with confusion as he felt the red eyes crawl over his soul looking for weakness. Severus stood straighter in an effort to protect himself.

Apparently satisfied Voldemort asked, "You think we should use her?"

"Isn't that why we got her in the first place," Severus asked, "she is fond of me after I offered the prisoners a kindness of proper meals and clothes. A kindness we benefited from - needing capable subjects for experiments." He assured his master.

Voldemort was gracious to his followers. "By all means then, Severus, she is yours," he said, like he was offering a reward.

And while Severus knew he should be thankful. He was hollow, still lost, still unrewarded, not like before.

Seizing him up Voldemort continued with warning, "Make no mistake, you're to use this gift to MY advantage." He paused to wave his hand dismissivly, "Blair is proving himself a danger but he is to receive his rewards, give him a choice of the other women."

Severus nodded thoughts flying through his head. Voldemort caught his chin and raised it to meet his face. The warm breath fell over Severus.

"Don't disappoint me by holding back your talents," Voldemort nurtured, "don't become like your father."

"Tell me about your father master." He watched his masters eyes contract and breathing stop.

"_Crucio_" Voldemort screamed, spit flying on his cheek for disobedience. Severus felt pain beyond pain as his veins thrashed for release. He fell to his knees before his master and fought the curse as hard as he could. But shortly he was thrashing on the ground screaming out in terror.

Voldemort chuckled, "You never fail to disappoint me Severus. We are family, you and I."

Severus smiled weakly as pain still spasmed in his back it was more like a grimace. He was able to breathe deeply to steady himself, "Anything for you my Lord, my Master, my Father."

Voldemort left Severus alone atop a cliff where the winds were whispering for him.

Inside Snape's head there was chaos. It was not a storm - it was a hurricane with wild, wild winds. Sometimes words drifted into consciousness, but mostly it was raw, harsh emotions.

Words, so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of someone who knows how to use them. He beat his chest angrily, how foolish, how stupid. In one moment, one flash, he saw through the false promises of the manipulator and realized the truth. Do not allow the words of others to control you, for words are merely sound and silence. They are neither truth nor lies, neither good nor evil--unless you permit them to be. He was reminded of his father. How he had become such a disappointment, so beyond redemption.

It was a horrible, life-shattering moment. Snape imagined vaguely that in a movie the hero would have been beyond the horror and the pain, and would set about facing the rest of the plot with grim determination. But this was not a movie, this was his life. He had felt as if his whole life had been taken away from him in one humiliating, abusive day. The terror was unbelievable.

He didn't know when the grief had propelled him to the ground. The grief had taken over him like the pain never would. This was a worse pain, a mental pain, he ached. He looked out over the edge gripping it tightly. He could even feel the desperate wanting; to throw it all away, throw himself off the edge to the waiting waves below.

The black tentacles of despair gave way to a superstitious shudder of fear. He pushed himself slowly back from the edge. His mind tumbling with thoughts of rebuilding his life after going to hell and back. If people had gathered to watch they would have seen him tremble a little on his legs. No one was there to catch him as he fell again to his knees. He was crying. Then he collapsed onto his side and shivered, clutching at his chest, with his legs curled underneath him.

He realised the irony of it all. Snape under Voldemort's control was a damned anonymous plaything of the devil that had demanded all things. Snape now realised that all things already were given to him and then given again. It was Lallie, it was her that had given them back. Returned soul to the rightful owner. Allowed him to see his folly. How he wished she were never born. He wished that she never burned his soul, tainted his hate with hope, with life, with love. He was undeserving and it tasted bitter and metallic in his mouth. He was bleeding, his heart was bleeding and the blood rushed over him so he could no longer see.

Severus woke sweating in the hot sun. He was alone still dressed in thick black Death Eater attire it had absorbed the light and life. He threw his mask and belt over the cliff watching them fall into the hungry waves. He would have followed after them, he wished it so, but he had to return, had to finish this. He was going to save Lallie.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen - An Interlude**

_Hogwarts, January 19th 1982_

He had received a letter from Bellatrix Lestrange that had demanded his presence next week. It had shocked him into some sort of state of mind. Severus was eventually able to drag himself to classes. He walked through the corridors in his own world. Every action seemed calculated and taken with great effort. And it didn't help that Minerva McGonagall kept popping up at every turn.

He was able to get through classes, as the subjects were so elementary, he could talk about them in his sleep but it was difficult not to be distracted by memories. He was halfway through an Engorging Potion lecture when he fell silent. A small boy in the class had looked up; his eyes were that same familiar blue. Severus went blank for a moment. The boy took his teachers lapse in concentration as an opportunity to shake his hand for feeling.

The action cleared the air. Severus scrutinised him closely before continuing.

He had a light complexion and blonde wavy hair. It was the first of the flashes, like the fall of soft blonde hair or the light reflected off damp pink lips or the gentle curve of a cheek, these images haunted him.

_Severus_, he coaxed himself mentally, _you're losing it._

_I most certainly am not!_ he snapped, and started stalking up and down the classroom.

Terrorising the students brought a small relief. He had been given free reign, and he was going to use it despite what that old Gryffindor woman would campaign about. Apparently her precious Gryffindors had been complaining about unfair treatment. Such an idiotic house, like they would know the first thing about unfair!

Flaming red hair and bumbling hands fell over the potion. Severus would have contained it by instinct had he not been so preoccupied. However the cauldron turned bright red and then blasted in a small explosion.

"Idiot!" Severus screamed, lunging at the student's worktable. Charlie cried out in fear as he jumped back, his oversized lip, swollen by the potion, pouting to hold back tears. Other students were crying out as various pieces of anatomy swelled to astronomical sizes.

"What have I told you, Weasley!" - "This is the worst behaviour I have ever seen!" - "Can't make a simple potion!" - "A danger to himself and his peers!"

Severus yelled in this manner while handing out antidotes, that he had thankfully prepared, to effected students. The class cowered in his presence and only after a brave Slytherin drank the antidote did the others follow suit.

Severus didn't seem to notice his irritation was palatable and he stopped yelling long enough to turn and whisper, "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

The lab was quiet. A small voice whispered, "Fifty? But sir, it was an accident. A simple mistake."

"An accident? Do you have any idea what the cost can be for one simple mistake," he muttered dangerously, "there will be no more mistakes in this class, am I clear?"

The students charged from the room when the bell went and Severus fell to his desk holding his head in his hands taking deep ragged breaths.

xxxxxx

_The Burrow_

Arthur Weasley kissed his wife on the cheek getting ready to leave for the Ministry again. Molly was stressed and her flaming red hair was fierier than usual, standing on end like a nervous aura. She didn't even notice Arthur instead her knuckles were white as she gripped the letter she had received from her son Charlie, rereading it while her eyes darted back and forth in fear. Her face looked even older in the flickering candlelight.

Arthur looked back again at Molly and contemplated staying. His workload had tripled since the end of the war and his presence at the Ministry was vital. During the war, Arthur had climbed the ranks and worked for both the Aurors and the Unspeakables while maintaining his leadership position in the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. He was a powerful wizard and intelligent, too. An obvious choice for Minister of Magic. Dumbledore had been at the Ministry these past weeks, helping out, and pressuring Arthur to go for the top job. There wasn't much competition; people wanted Crouch but without Dumbledore's support - Dumbledore wouldn't support Crouch after that nasty business with the Unforgivables - he wouldn't be elected.

Of course, Lucius could stand against him, but he too busy protecting his name and using his influence elsewhere to be a contender. Plus Malfoys don't work. Still, Lucius had been at the Ministry a lot in past weeks and Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if the Malfoy was responsible for the Ministers recent demise. Arthur gritted his teeth, _what was that man up too? _

Money had always been a problem for the Weasley family especially with all the new children. He felt bitter for a moment, the demands of his family getting in the way of his career. He shook himself in disgust; Arthur always put his family first.

_I haven't though_, he realised as he looked at Molly's pale face, not during the war. He had of course left Molly, to fight, to succeed, all the men had and now he was home, an alien in his own kitchen. He felt out of place within his own home. He scrutinised Molly closely, he was needed as father and husband, too.

Molly continued to fraught over the letter and Arthur sighed.

"Molly," he whispered. She looked horrible. She hadn't been well during the war and Arthur blamed himself for that - for not being there. It made him feel even worse about considering the option of Minister. How can he have regrets with all this guilt?

She had miscarried twice during the war, she couldn't handle the stress; he wouldn't let her do that again. He tried to remember the confident woman he married. She was beautiful, happy, powerful and always in control. It was hard to juxtaposition her with the pregnant depressed lost woman slumped at the table. The guilt consumed him and he bent down to hug her.

"Molly dear," he whispered.

"It's Charlie, he's in trouble, the new teacher," Molly said quickly.

"Shhh, slow down," said Arthur, conjuring some tea and sitting at the table.

Molly read the letter to Arthur who sat and listened.

"What was the teacher's name again?" he asked when she had finished.

"Snape," Molly answered.

"I've heard that name before," Arthur said as he tried to remember where from. _Was it from the trials?_ He wasn't sure.

"I know the family," interrupted Molly, "they were into the Dark Arts, Slytherin family the lot of them. A few years above us at school, remember Urdic or something, he was head boy."

"Ah yes," said Arthur, taking a sip of his tea, "we looked into them during the war, the family moved to Europe. They remained neutral." Arthur nodded, as if that cleared the matter up.

"What about his son," Molly pressed,

"Come now Molly, Dumbledore knows what he is doing, and the children tend to exaggerate these things. Tell you what, we can get Charlie to talk to Bill; maybe he just needs some help in potions. They can work it out themselves, and if not I'll talk to Dumbledore. No need to worry about this Molly," he assured her.

"You're right," she said finally, taking her tea, "don't you have to work?"

"Not tonight Molly," he smiled and she grinned, too. It was nice to see her smiling and he had forgotten that anything else mattered. Or more accurately, remembered the things that did.

"I'll send Dumbledore an owl, he'll be at the Ministry tonight and I'll tell him that I am taking tomorrow off. I'll help out here, we still have those extra bedrooms to add on and you can't do it in your condition."

Molly nodded smiling again, "Good, we need those bedrooms now the twins are running about. They are terrors, I bet they'll be Slytherins."

Arthur laughed.

"But what about the Minister's job," she continued, "surely you can't afford to take time off now."

"I'm not going for the Minister's position," Arthur said soothingly, "I want to be here."

Molly cried silently but furiously. Tears streamed down her face clouding her vision. Arthur grabbed a napkin and gently wiped her damp face. He propped her up and hugged her round the middle, slowly caressing her bump. He tilted her head to look down into her deep wet puppy dog eyes and couldn't help but smile.

"There, there," he coaxed, kissing her on the nose. "You know I've always wanted some time to work on my plug collection."

She sniffled and chuckled.

"It's the hormones," she complained as she sat, tears still streaming from her face. Hormones or not, Arthur hugged her fiercely like he would never let go. Molly melted into his arms and the two stood in the kitchen hugging each other tightly.

"Are you sure?" she asked, pulling away slightly.

"Positive," Arthur smiled, and kissed her gently.

The two stood clutched in each other's arms long into the night. Molly's hair seemed to flatten as she held on and slumped her head on Arthur's shoulder. He held her, not wiping the smile from his face. He looked around the kitchen and saw the scattered toys, leftover food, dirty dishes piled in the sink and the grandfather clock with eight hands. It didn't feel restrictive; it felt right, content and peaceful. For the Weasleys, peacetime had come at last.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen - Plans Hindered**

_Just as a reaching hand becomes a reaching heart,  
I wonder, my love, where did this all start?  
Was it when my father had cursed his only son  
Or when I started cursing others just for fun?_

Stumbling for a reason -  
searching for the cause.  
You can see them crying  
yet, you use your claws.

Just another addict,  
is it me you despise?  
I can't handle this honestly  
please tell me only lies.

This liquid poison that seeps within my veins  
is different from the knowledge that I sought to gain.  
When I saw your eyes  
they murmured my contempt.

Not ever seen so clearly,  
not even when I dreamt.  
I cannot see the future and  
I cannot comprehend so

I need you by my side  
my love will never bend.

_xxxxx_

_  
Auchou, July 23rd 1980_

Severus returned to the place that harbors evil. And Dolohov was waiting. Waiting, with his usual glare.

"I am going to see Lucius, his wife is pregnant again," Dolohov stated without preamble. (Narcissa had miscarried thrice already.)

Dolohov's eyes flashed with loathing and his face screwed up in disgust. "Your prize is waiting for you in your rooms," Dolohov spat spitefully.

Severus was shaken, _Lallie_, he thought desperately.

"Good," Severus nodded afraid he had given himself away. Voldemort must have spoken with Dolohov also and Severus was too concerned to be smug.

If Dolohov was shocked by Severus' offer of the high road, he didn't show it. He just sneered and stepped out of the camp to Disapparate.

Watching Dolohov's sneering form disappear he ran toward his rooms. Death Eaters greeted him as he past yet he ignored them. With a heavy breast he pushed the black door to his room open. He was in a state of shock. There was blood everywhere and Lallie lay eagle sprawled over the bed.

Severus rushed down to her, desperately trying to wake her. He didn't know where to start, it seemed like she was still alive but he could barely tell. Summoning potion vials he tried to get her to drink them while simultaneously trying to patch up her battered body.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked, lost and confused yet looking surprisingly calm.

"It's okay now Lallie, we are going to leave," he whispered, wiping her hair and mattered blood from her face with a potion soaked towel. She was breathing, it was shallow but thank God she was breathing.

He worked for the next three hours and then watched her sleep it was too dangerous to move her. He was skilled at potions, even medipotions, however he was not a nurse. Panicking that he had done something wrong, once she was sleeping soundly, he began to pace.

He turned again to look at her and check that she was breathing. Her beauty momentarily trapped him. It wasn't a physical beauty, she wasn't going to be instantly appreciated in a room, but there was something, something indescribable. Like if you actually were to look on her, your eyes wouldn't stray, there was something capturing about her. Her lips were regaining color and shining pink in them flickered in the candlelight. He fleetingly wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

_How could anyone harm something so beautiful?_ Severus thought, _It__ would be like slaying a unicorn._

And so Severus sat beside her, his hand gently holding hers until late into the day. She stirred gently.

"Drink this," he ordered and she obeyed.

The pain potion took away some of the pain away and she was able to turn and face him.

"Severus," she smiled, "I knew you would come."

"Of course," he said genuinely.

"Do you think you can travel?" he asked.

"Travel?"

"Yes, we are leaving, Dolohov has left for a couple of days I think," he said.

"No." Lallie stated pushed herself up from the bed and pain flickered through her face.

"No, what?" Severus pushed her back down.

"I'm not leaving."

"What?" Severus was confused, "Dolohov is away, this is our only chance."

"I won't leave the others, we can do what we can to save them, we can't run from this," Lallie stated, "to ignore evil is to become an accomplice to it."

Severus was aggravated, this wasn't how he had planned it, did she know how much he had risked to come for her? Did she know how hard it was for him to come to this point?

"We can't, there are at least ten trained Death Eaters, against what? Me, some Muggles and a cripple," he spat.

"Go to the Ministry," she urged.

"Yeah," Severus laughed sarcastically. "And if I make it through the front door, then what? 'Hi, my name is Severus Snape and I am a Death Eater but I am having a lapse in my conscience to tell you to save the people at this concentration camp that I have been working at because this woman won't leave with me until I do.'"

"You have to go to the Ministry, you have come this far."

"I'm not like you, I'm…" Severus trailed off uncomfortably. He was scared. "I'm not a Gryffindor."

"Neither am I, Ravenclaw actually," she declared proudly, "I'm not leaving you. I'm scared too."

Severus looked at her small face set with steely determination.

"Well," he said deeply, "if that's the way it has to be, leave the plans to me ….."

xxxxxx

The next day Severus helped Lallie across the camp, diverting Death Eaters from their attention to return her to the rest of the prisoners. Severus then tried to return to his camp duties. He stayed locked in the labs and shouted whenever someone tried to enter. This wasn't too unusual seeing the camp knew him as a mad scientist with a brash temper.

Unforeseeably Dolohov returned early. Severus was nervous yet with steady hands he posted the owl. As the wide wings beat and took flight Severus watched the owl leave toward London. _This is it._

Meanwhile, Lallie rallied the group about their liberation. Her return caused much excitement.

"We thought you were dead," Alex Weasley whispered to her as he guided her to a spare bed.

She talked about their escape, as a group they could overpower some of the guards and then with the Ministry's help... Alex agreed and helped organize the men, breaking them into battle groups so that they could make it out successfully.

"If I get out of this alive," he told her privately, "I'm becoming an accountant."

Lallie laughed and a sharp pain shot down her side making her cough up blood. The deep red marked her hands. Hiding it from the rest of the group she walked over to her bed. The others slowly followed suit.

The air was anxious about the battle tomorrow.

"Come on everyone," Weasley called, "we need our rest for tomorrow."

Lallie lay down to sleep and looked through the tiny window to see the moon. _I can make it_, she thought to herself, _I can._

Severus was looking at the same moon filled with a similar nervousness. On opposite sides of camp they drifted into an uneasy sleep.

xxxxxx

There was, however, one man who didn't fall to sleep so easily. Jude Davies, a tax attorney, from Surrey, was less motivated to drift into an easy sleep this night. He listened to the rooms deep sleepy breaths as the group prepared itself for the war tomorrow.

He had seen enough of fighting, enough of their kind. _Freaks!_ He could not be so easily swayed and he certainly wasn't going to trust these "Aurors" or whatever they were called. These people had taken his family, these people had killed his son, these people were abnormal, evil, freaks! And, he wasn't going to trust Lallie the freakiest of them all or the redheaded nutcase.

"Guard," he whispered determinedly.

"What?! Go to sleep."

Jude quickly looked around worried that someone might have woken but nobody stirred. The bald guard was already in a bad mood after being accosted by Severus earlier that day.

"Let me speak to Dolohov," urged Jude, the name branded in his mind, this was the man who killed his family - and yet this was the man who held the power.

"No, go to sleep!" repeated the guard.

"Please," Jude continued, he would not give up, "tell him I have information."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen - Powers and Battles**

_Ministry Halls, January 24th 1982_

Lucius strode down the narrow Ministry halls, his silver cloak whispering along his restricted path. He looked cautiously down the halls before knocking on the oak door.

"Enter," he heard a young voice reply.

The office was small and on the second floor of the Ministry, the Law Enforcement Division, the man inside was short and chubby but had a friendly face currently flushed as he bumbled around his office. As Lucius entered, the man raised his head and his blotchy red cheeks turned pale.

"Lucius," he stammered, "what can I do you for?"

Lucius sneered at the man and put his hand into his cloak. The move made the other anxious and he quickly reached for his wand.

Lucius chuckled as he pulled out a bag of coins. "Jumpy today," he said, as he raised an eyebrow and dumped the money on the table.

"Lucius I…" the man began but he was cut off.

"Fudge you should have no problem with this task, should you?" Lucius asked. "After all, it's what we both wanted."

"But," stammered Fudge, "Crouch is headed to take over now; Weasley's taken himself out of the running."

"Crouch," whispered Lucius, a sinister smile plastered on his face, "I will deal with."

"You won't harm him?" asked Fudge nervously.

"No, no, his problems will hit a lot closer to _home._"

Fudge didn't have the chance to ask any more questions as Lucius left his office and swaggered down the halls again. Most people ducked out of the corridor as they saw him but Arthur Weasley was not going to. Instead the two met in a semi stand off waiting for the other to move aside.

"Lucius," Arthur greeted unkindly, "what business do you have with the Ministry?"

"Just visiting an old friend," Lucius scoffed, and Arthur tried to look down the corridor to see whose rooms were there.

"Weasley, move, you have dirtied my robes," Lucius spat, pushing Arthur back and dusting himself off where Arthur's tatty green robes had brushed him.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Arthur again. "Who let you through these corridors!"

"I have business here as much as the next man Weasley," Lucius said cruelly leaning closer to Arthur. "I was making sure that you don't run for Minister, but I heard you've dropped out, what? The image of riches and power must have frightened you."

"I'm not scared," Arthur said, holding his ground and meeting the man's flashing silver eyes with his normally soft brown ones, "I am spending some time with my loving family, not that you would know anything about that."

"And what a dirty little family it is," Lucius retorted quickly, flicking his hair behind his shoulders. "So tell me, how are your brothers? Still in St. Mungo's are they? Insanity is hereditary you know?"

"Explains where you got it," Arthur said menacingly, "after all your mother…"

"Keep my mother out of this Weasel! What would you know?! Keep talking like that and the rest of your brats will meet the same sticky end!" Lucius tried to keep his temper in check.

"Don't you _ever_ threaten my family!" Arthur growled through gritted teeth stepping even closer toward Lucius forcing the man to sway backward.

"What's the loss?" his pale eyes glittered dangerously. "You already have more children than you can afford. You are a disgrace to the name of wizard."

"You can talk, Death Eater!"

"I am _not!_" yelled Lucius, "I was cleared by the Ministry!"

People started staring into the small hallway from their offices as the two were yelling at each other.

"I know what you are," spat Arthur, "You have always been a manipulative…evil…"

Arthur shook his head fiercely, to angry to continue.

Lucius leaned forward out of the earshot from the eager faces peeping out of their offices. "You can prove nothing," Lucius whispered, "pity you can't buy brains, not that you could afford them, hey Weasley!"

Arthur was about to throw a punch at Lucius when Dumbledore rested his arm on Arthur's shoulder.

"Trouble boys?" Dumbledore asked.

The two men both looked down at their shoes as if still in school and scolded by the headmaster.

Lucius looked up first. "Dumbledore," he said, nodding coldly as he pushed himself past. Dusting his robes as he fled.

xxxxxx

_Muggle__ Graveyard, January 26th, 1982_

"Bellatrix, a delight to see you again," greeted Severus insincerely.

"Forgo the pleasantries Snape, we are going on a raid tomorrow night, Roldolphus has a lead about our Master's whereabouts."

The two had gathered in a cemetery. Bellatrix Lestrange had sent him a letter recently demanding his presence. Severus had thought the request odd but agreed to meet. Bellatrix and Roldolphus were the only married pair of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord favoured Bellatrix for her psychopathic tendencies. There was light from Muggle street lamps and the two stood just in the shadows.

"What? Just the three of us? Raiding who?" asked Severus.

"Always asking so many questions?" she sneered, raising a dark eyebrow to look at him.

"I don't remember you being the one allowed to give orders," Severus sneered back stretching himself up to great height so that he was a good foot taller than Bellatrix.

"It is an Auror's house and there will be five of us, _Roldolphus_ has organised it and you _know_ he can be _trusted_," she said indicating Roldolphus was the only one who could be trusted.

"Who's coming on the raid?" asked Severus again, trying to get any information from her.

"Snape, again with the questions!" she demanded.

"I don't want to compromise our position with idiots," he scoffed but she had already resolved.

She laughed madly, "As I said, Roldolphus has organised it, just follow your mark, it'll burn at midnight." And she Disapparated.

xxxxxx

Dumbledore was still spending time at the Ministry and Severus wondered if he should tell Minerva the plans when his owls to Dumbledore returned to him.

At breakfast that morning, she was again casting the Slytherin dirty glares and Severus decided against it.

The day seemed impossibly long, as he was jumpy and nervous again. His students were terrified and Charles Weasley hearing of his demeanor simply didn't turn up for class.

"Mr. Snape," Minerva caught him as he left the classroom after his final lesson, "a word if you please." Knowing that he wouldn't turn up for dinner she had to catch him now.

Severus nodded and the two stepped into his office. Severus had already filled it with potion ingredients that sat floating menacingly at the guest. Minerva looked around his office appraisingly. He sat down behind his desk but made no move to invite Minerva to sit, instead busying himself with essays. So she just stood behind the chair that had only ever been used by Hagrid.

"What do I owe the honour," he said sarcastically, his black eyes flashing cheekily.

"I have observed your late night outings and…" she began but Severus cut her off.

"What does it matter to you where I spend my time?" Severus interjected, his two hands spread palm down on the desk.

"I am Deputy Headmistress, and with Professor Dumbledore away I have a right to know where the staff are," Minerva demanded, drawing her small lips into a tight white line.

"Shall I introduce you to my concubine?" he sneered disgustingly.

She fluttered for a moment, "Mr. Snape! It is my duty to protect the students!"

"It's Professor now, McGonagall," he spat, "I am no longer a student here and it is none of your business where and with whom I spend my time." As if daring her to say otherwise he added, "If that is all Professor." Severus stood and gestured to the door.

Her tightly drawn face swelled with repressed anger and lacking of anything to say she stormed out and headed toward the Great Hall.

Two owls were sent with great speed that night. Having no other means to contact Dumbledore, Severus wrote a rushed letter about Minerva and the Lestranges plan for the evening. Walking to the forest that night was nerve wracking.

He traipsed across the grass field black robes streaming behind him holding a black bag at his side. He saw the light at Hagrid's hut still shining and turned to walk the opposite way into the Forbidden Forest. The forest was making eerie nighttime sounds and Severus found a small clearing far enough away from the castle to stand waiting.

The minutes ticked by loudly as it approached midnight and Severus reached into his bag to draw out the items inside. Pulling the silver drawstring around his waist he felt the string slither together to tie. He dropped the bag and held the mask in his hand. Looking at it fearfully he stroked the white material. When the Dark Mark burned he gripped himself, put on the mask and Disapparated.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen – Some men see things as they are and saw why, I dream things that never were and say why not?**

_Auchou__, August 1st 1980_

"Snape," the word was hissed, like a serpent, with a familiar loathing.

"I have heard an interesting story…" he began as he walked across the room and closed the door with a thud. Severus wondered what time it was. The light shone in through Dolohov's office window, he must have fallen asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. A young Death Eater woke him but not five minutes ago to report to Blair Dolohov immediately, Severus could think of no excuse, and was now trapped alone with the monster.

He stood silently. Dolohov's office was bland, with a small desk and concrete floor. The floor seemed to have a large bloodstain that spread under the desk. The morning light made the blood appear wet and moving in a slither across the floor.

"….about Lallie," Dolohov finished punctuating the words fiercely as he sat in his chair.

Severus remained silent and merely lifted an eyebrow. Dolohov stared at Severus waiting for him to take to the bait however Severus' demeanor looked almost bored. The room buzzed with nerves, even sitting Dolohov radiated power. _Could he have found out?_

"She is organising an escape," Dolohov said slowly.

Severus snorted, "Impossible!"

"_Crucio_" Dolohov scolded merrily as Severus fell onto the concrete floor screaming. The fall smashed his head and the pain was so unbearable it should have been impossible to feel anything else. Yet, he could feel the blood slowly trickle down his back.

The curse was lifted. Severus tried to open his eyes but everything was hurting. He had not been prepared when the curse had hit him. The edges of his vision were marred and he began to shake with fear, anticipation and the aftereffects of the curse.

"You don't think it is a bit odd, Severus," he felt hot breath next to his face, "that young Lallie is organising this?" The man's broad face came slowly back into focus. Dolohov's eyes were moving like rough seas and his lips moist with blood covering his teeth red as he smiled callously.

"I did nothing," Severus began his voice hoarse and shaky.

"Liar!" Dolohov shouted, spitting blood and saliva onto Severus' face. This time the curse was tenfold. Severus who had always been strong at resisting the curse felt weak, helpless and the pain, oh the pain! His screams were guttural like a desperate animal howling.

"Who else?"

"I didn't.." Severus began helplessly.

"Wrong answer!" Dolohov called as Severus felt the curse pulse rapidly through him again increasing the blood loss making him feel empty as though the room was spinning. Dolohov's eyes rolled back in sick pleasure.

"Wait!" Severus heard himself shout through his own screaming.

The curse was lifted and Dolohov knelt over Severus grinning. He straddled Severus' sitting on him and pinning his arms to his sides. Dolohov's large cock pushing onto Severus' abdomen. Severus tried to keep the fear from his eyes but the blood that covered Dolohov glistened and dripped onto him.

"Yes?" Dolohov asked, his breathing deep and ragged. Severus tried to reach his wand but Dolohov's body weight as holding him down. Dolohov watched the action grinning, his wand already thrust in Severus' face. He pushed down further, knocking the wind from Severus' stomach and pressuring his ribs. As the air pushed out of his lungs his head was lifted from the ground in a gagging motion. He felt nothing but disgust and anger replace the air in his body.

"_Expelliamus_" he cried, and the wandless magic caused Dolohov to fly to the opposite side of the room.

The sudden release of weight caused the blood to rush back through his body and he gasped for air. At the same time Dolohov thudded with great force against the wall opposite.

Sliding back and pushing himself into a siting position Severus rested his body on the side of the table. His breathing was desperate and painful. Dolohov wasn't breathing at all. Severus cautiously made his way over to the fallen Death Eater, sliding along the floor. He looked into the deep eyes of Dolohov, they now looked empty, his face still frozen with a deathly sneer.

Severus cast a few simple healing charms on himself and managed to get to his feet. His body still felt the after effects of the curse, Dolohov had used it with much more aggression than the Dark Lord himself. Severus, who was trying not to panic and transfigured the body into a dark gray paperweight.

He looked around Dolohov's office and his eyes fell on the papers on his desk. Dolohov had been writing - the parchment and ink were strewn across the desk. It was too late now however and Severus dropped the transfigued Dolohov in the top drawer. Pulling open the lower draws Severus found papers that held him responsible for the atrocities here. He found information about everything. There were papers about the prisoners, all of Severus' discoveries, maps, plans….. In desperation Severus pulled all the papers from the draws and thought about burning them.

"Dolohov?" he heard a voice call and footsteps approach the office.

Hurriedly, he found an empty folder and pushed all the papers into it. Locking it with a curse only he could crack and slipping the black folder back into the draw.

"What do you want?" he barked at the man in front of him as he closed the door to Dolohov's office with a lock.

"Ve vere hearing some noises and seeing some smoke?" the man answered gruffly.

"Well, Karkaroff is it?" Severus asked cruelly, thanking himself that they had sent the dummy of the group, "as you can see there is nothing to worry about so return to your post."

The man looked at Severus' bloodied robe and then let his eyes linger on the silver sash around his waist and nodded.

"Yes sir."

xxxxxxxx

Severus sat in his room sipping laced tea as he watched the Aurors appear right on time. The Death Eaters had no warning. Those at the perimeter Apparated offsite while others tried to escape. The Aurors weren't aiming to kill trying to capture as many Death Eaters as possible throwing hexes, Severus' crew were putting up a good fight.

It was no use escaping now and he wasn't going to Azkaban.

Severus watched the prisoners as they were liberated. A redheaded man shouted and they moved as a unit towards the animal cages. One Death Eater was throwing memory charms at the group so that they were struck confused and stranded in the middle of the battle. Severus spotted Lallie, barely walking, hidden from the fray near the back of the camp clutching her side. She fell over, hit by an offshot curse.

_Idiot!_, Severus cursed.

Furiously he drank the antidote that he held in his hand. _Who?_ He wondered aloud, _when planning their death makes an antidote?_

Severus scrambled to the door, he jumped through the hexes and rushed down the side of the building. Lalllie was leaning against the wall gripping her side.

"Lallie, are you okay?"

"What the hell did you think you were doing? Promise me you won't ever attempt that again," she asked in agony.

Severus looked down at the dead man beside her. The man insides had been filleted outside his body. They lay spread across the alley, Dolohov's work, the informant lay spread, there was no bargaining with evil.

"You can't save everyone, come on, let's go," he reasoned and he pulled her up drawing his robe to cover his face.

"Promise me," she urged.

She grimaced in pain grabbing on to him for support, an Auror appeared at the front of the alley.

"Let her go Death Eater!" he shouted and Severus looked stupidly down at his clothing.

"Go! Quick!" urged Lallie, and she reached into his pocket and then pushed herself infront of him.

The Auror was surprised for a moment and the two took this as their chance to escape.

She pushed him further down the side of the building towards the fence. "Just go!" she begged and Severus ran.

He thundered across the barrier and hid in the trees.

He didn't know whether he was upset or relieved. He watched closely hopeing for another glimpse of Lallie. The camp seemed to be on fire. He watched Dolohov's office, where an Auror burst out the door covering his face to protect himself from the smoke, had flown up in flames.

There would be nothing left of it soon and Severus was bitterly relieved.

But where would he go now?

He whispered an incantation of the only place he knew where to go.

xxxxxx

"My lord," he whispered on his knees, "the camp is under attack."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

_Longbottom House, Just after midnight, January 28th, 1982_

Severus, adorned in the serpentine Death Eater robes, was greeted when he appeared beside four others. They all wore white skeletal masks, black silky robes and grim expressions. He tried to recognize his companrades but the masks made them look inhuman.

"Let's go," said Bellatrix, her voice and her frame as the shortest and only female of the group easily recognizable. The four began to walk down the hillside to the small farmhouse below.

"Wait," called Severus, "Shouldn't we check it out, form a plan and come back tomorrow?" he asked trying to buy time.

One chuckled, "We must reach our master, there is no time to spare."

Roldulfus however sided with Snape, "Hold on love, Severus outranks us."

Bellatrix glared, "Not without the Dark Lord around, and I intend to find him! We will not wait!" She was always over-ambitious and too aggressive.

"Stop," ordered Severus in his iciest voice.

"Why?" she hissed. Severus took note that despite her suspicions she stopped and turned. The others just looked on with interest.

"Firstly we have to check for wards," Severus said, mocking her in his silkiest "I know best" voice.

Bellatrix said nothing knowing she had been outsmarted. If she wasn't wearing a mask Severus could have sworn she was pouting. He muttered incantations and removed some of the wards. Unfortunately the man who spoke earlier assisted him. This meant Severus had no chance to leave some on.

The group crept toward the silent house. Bellatrix again took charge, "You!" she beckoned her husband and the quiet one, "wait outside. Keep guard."

Severus, the other man, and Bellatrix all separated, like hunting wolves, around the house. With the two left outside on guard. Severus magiced himself up to the second floor and entered via a window. Windows were rarely warded, or at least, not with as much protection as doors. Severus was easily the first inside. He steadied himself in the room his eyes already adapted to the low light.

It was a child's bedroom. It was decorated in gentle blues and greens. Severus' stark black figure like an ugly thorn; invading its serenity. Children were always a problem, especially in raids, loud and unpredictable. In Severus' raiding days he would have killed them quickly. It was kinder that way, but now he had Dumbledore watching over him. A small boy lay peacefully in a crib. Severus' pulse quickened as he stunned the boy and shoved him in a toy box.

Severus crept out of the room and into the hallway. Moving gracefully and as silent as soft silk across a bare neckline. Bellatrix and the other had made their way inside. Severus heard the man mutter incantations to stop anyone from leaving the house.

Severus quickly joined him on the landing. He nodded to the other man and they entered the last bedroom together. The couple were asleep in their bed.

_"Crucio_," Bellatrix screamed, jumping between Severus and the Death Eater in an evil haste. Before the woman had a chance to wake she was screaming.

"_Expelliamus_," Severus called catching the wands as they flew up from the nightstand. He put them in his pocket. The screaming softened to sobs, it took a moment to realize that Bellatrix had released the curse.

"Where is our Master," Bellatrix demanded.

"I'll tell you nothing," spoke the father. The other Death Eater bobbed on his feet, Severus wondered if this was his first raid. New recruits were typically anxious, excited or petrified and he couldn't tell which one the man was yet. There was a time when he enjoyed this but tonight it made him dizzy.

"_Crucio_," called Bellatrix again cursing the woman. The screams were so loud that Severus warded the room to protect the sounds from reaching the neighbours.

"Catherine," the man begged reaching for his wife. "I'm not telling you anything," the father repeated breathlessly staring at Bellatrix with a blasphemous courage.

"Tell us!" the young Death Eater demanded stepping closer to the bed and slapping the man across the face.

"Please, leave her alone," he begged. Bellatrix obeyed somewhat turning the curse to him.

"Tell me," they repeated. Catherine was sobbing and he still remained silent.

"_Crucio_," Bellatrix called turning to the wife again. She didn't relent and the woman's voice grew hoarse as the man started pleading for her to stop. It was never long before they started pleading. He was sobbing and tried to hold his wife down to stop her shaking. The other Death Eater stood and eyed the scene carefully stepping closer with each curse.

Severus tried to focus on working out his identity so he wouldn't be so uncomfortable with the screaming, there was nothing he could do now without giving up his identity especially to Bellatrix who already had her doubts, although she doubted everyone. Severus concentrated on the other Death Eater. The man was pale skinned, looked eager, Severus assumed that he was young but knew he was powerful because he had helped with disabling the wards.

The two continued to torment the married couple and Severus focused on the Death Eater's hands which were calloused and rough.

Then Bellatrix changed her line of questioning, and Severus' snapped to attention.

"Were you the Aurors that killed Rosier and Wilkes?" she demanded. Severus spun around eyes blazing. He drew a fierce breath filled with controlled anger.

"_Crucio_," Severus called before he had time to stop himself. He felt the power rush up his arm. It was a release he hadn't been given for a long time. The man was screaming but Severus had blocked it out. He thought of his friends and this monster who was no longer a father, husband or man to Severus.

"Tell us!" Severus demanded loudly, coming closer and shaking Frank fiercely as he cast the pain curse on his wife.

"Please, leave her alone," Frank sobbed.

"TELL US!" Severus commanded, a soft red aura growing around him.

"You killed them!" he screamed hitting her again with the curse, "You killed them!" he shouted and cursed again trying to relieve his own guilt at the same time as he caught the sad look in the mans eyes.

"Yes," Frank finally revealed his eyes filled with tears. The woman's body was thrusting more violently now, blood flowing from her nose and mouth, the screaming had dulled instead she was gagging, making choking noises as she sputtered.

Severus stopped as suddenly as he had started, taking a giant step back and lowering his wand. He was glad for the mask as his face would have been etched in terror.

He had noticed the small child in bedclothes by the door. His eyes and face were round with fear, but until he entered the room the silencing spell was stopping the sound of his screaming. The boy also was glowing a powerful red and it was daunting, he had obviously thrown the stunning curse, and now built a protective force.

"It was our only choice," the Auror sobbed, as he jumped to cover his wife, checking her over, there was nothing he could do for her now.

"That's why he's in the Silver Circle," whispered the boy to Bellatrix who was smiling cruelly. "That was amazing!"

Severus felt sick. He was shaking and his aura faded. He looked down at the man holding his wife eyes filled with tears. She was not responsive at first and Severus thought he had killed her. But he heard her ragged breaths.

The young Death Eater was still talking to Bellatrix, "Make sure you thank Lucius for recommending me."

"We know nothing," Frank sobbed, turning his back on the group and focusing solely on his wife.

The child looked stricken and Severus wondered how to make him disappear. He still stood unnoticed in the doorway.

"Please tell us where the Dark Lord is," Bellatrix began in a tone that mocked all politeness. She and the young Death Eater were closing in on the bed still oblivious to the young child at the door.

"I honestly don't know?" Frank said silently, his resolve evaporated. "We had heard he was in Eastern Europe." Frank had noticed his son but tried to draw attention to him rambling about difficulty to access information at the Ministry because of the death of the Minister. Bellatrix replied to the Auror's ramble with a curse. Even through the violent convulsing Severus saw the man look up to him. His eyes pleading - for him and for his son. At the sight of his father's pain the young boy went to run to the bed but Severus was quicker, he stunned the child and watched him fall without a sound, using a banishing spell to push him behind a door.

When the curse was released Frank immediately looked down the hall for his son but couldn't see him. He turned to Severus with understanding and tried to make another plea as if he understood Severus' challenge.

"Tell me!" their cohort shouted, raising his wand to cast the curse again but Severus stepped forward.

"Enough!" he said quietly and drew a thin vile from his pocket.

"Vertisim." He now knew the man was telling the truth, this whole sticky mess was for nothing. The spasms of power that still thrust through his arm both tempting and frightening at the same time. He now had to save face with the party.

Bellatrix grabbed the vile and pushed it all down Frank's throat, he coughed and sputtered on it and

"Where is the Dark Lord?"

"I don't know," replied the Auror honestly.

"CRUCIO!" yelled the boy truly angry and did not remove the curse as the husband shook.

Suddenly, the three felt a burn on their mark. Uncasting the silencing wards the Death Eaters heard the sounds of shouting. The Auror's had arrived.

"Apparate," they heard Roldulfus call. Bellatrix and the young man quickly fled the scene.

Severus watched the man roll over and his eyes were foreign, he rushed to the door. The poor child's face had frozen, eyes wide and fearful. Severus released the spell and the child immediately began crying loudly.

"Dada, Dada!" the boy called, Severus looked down at his round face solemnly. Severus looked at the family shattered and unnaturally sprawled over the bed. The couple spread lifelessly, their eyes vacant and filled with pain.

_And for what?_ He asked himself mentally.

"Sorry," Severus whispered to the boy and then poised his wand to cast a powerful memory charm. The boy fell down and sat looking as dazed as his parents. With a final look at his doing Severus drew his robes together and quickly Apparated from the scene.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

_With Voldemort, August 1st 1980_

"I was meeting with Dolohov when they stormed in. The camp has been stormed by Aurors, Blair didn't have a chance. I don't even know how I managed to get Apparation point," Severus reiterated to the Dark Lord.

"We have a spy!" Voldemort was furious, his eyes flashed dangerously and tongue flickered like a venomous snake. He was stalking back and forward and Severus pushed his hands into his pockets - they were covered in sweat.

Elsewhere, in a well lit English study Lucius Malfoy read a very interesting letter – and as it would turn out it was the last letter ever written by Blair Dolohov.

_Diabolus Quies, Knockturn Alley_

The patrons of Diabolus Quies were a lot different from the ones that hung at The Leaky Cauldron. This bar was set down the dirtiest bends of Knockturn Alley. The dark oak furniture and low lighting gave the pub a bleak and daunting atmosphere. Sitting hunched in a small corner were Malum Avery, Ivan Rosier and Pravus Wilkes and they were by far the youngest members of the bar. Other people also sat in private groups and a tall black barmaid walked between them magicing drinks.

Ivan Rosier was looking forward to this evening. He had not seen his school friends since they had left Hogwarts as the boys had been busy with their separate tasks working for the Dark Lord. For a Death Eater Ivan was rather shy, he worked the hardest of the four, he had only one striving ambition, to live up to his father's expectation. Rissum Rosier was a ruthless powerful Death Eater and a violent father. Ivan found the last years painful and difficult, working with his father and his fathers' connections. He used to be quite childish even in his later school years and missed that freedom. He was just having a difficult time growing up.

With a deep sigh Ivan put his glass down and turned to look at the door. They were waiting for Severus.

"Where's Snape?" Wilkes demanded.

Wilkes was the leader of their group, and not known for patience. He was strong, a large boy, broad and full of muscle. He and Severus were the closest. With Severus as the brains of the group and Wilkes as the muscle, during school, the two were unstoppable. Wilkes followed Severus' keen fascination of the Dark Arts right into being a Death Eater. And while he enjoys his Death Eater activities he felt anger that Severus had left him.

"He thinks he's so good because he is in the Silver Circle," spat Avery, already on his sixth glass.

Avery was bitter. His eyes were different colours and he was thin and pale. During sixth year Avery changed, the changes were dramatic, some joked he was even under Imperius. He wasn't. It was because his father, his father was murdered in sixth year. Oddly Avery then became close friend's with Lucius Malfoy, his mothers lover. He used to be gentler, had a crush on Lily Evans, joked with the others, now he hated Mudbloods, taunted instead of joked and had developed a steely set of nerves.

"Something must have happened," reasoned Ivan.

"Hmmp!" Avery made move to leave.

"No, wait," begged Ivan, "I want to know how you've been?"

Wilkes looked at him and smiled. "You talk like a woman."

"He talks like a spy," growled Avery but he sat back down. The group laughed and ordered another round. Talking about their missions it was almost as if they hadn't been apart. Wilkes was crude he talked off all his accomplishments, in detail.

"So does anyone know what Severus is up too?" asked Ivan. The others shook their heads, by this time they were all fairly drunk.

Wilkes began waving about his pitcher about to start a diatribe.

"You've had too much mead!" Ivan joked as beer sloshed over the table. It was disturbing how young the boys were. How young, and how human.

The three were laughing, a full three sheets to the wind when the strangers entered the pub. Patrons looked up as the new guests entered the room.

A man, with thick black hair stormed up to the Slytherins table, his face messed with fury. Two other men were holding him back. James Potter was tall and good looking and his friend Remus was worried and had sandy brown hair. They were trying to hold Sirius Black who was so filled with fury that as he stormed across the bar the others came with him.

You could almost be forgiven for missing the fourth man that entered the pub. Mousey and short the chubby man brought up the rear of the group frantically holding on to Sirius's coat.

The Slytherins stared up at the Gryffindors who had just fallen about their table with so much fury it was platable. Others who where watching the scene made move toward the doors and left the pub, chairs scraping and tables falling over in the scurry. James and Sirius stood at the front of the group side by side in Aurors robes. This alone was enough for anyone at the Diabolus Quies to flee and those that hadn't left moved closer to the group to see what was happening.

"What do you boys want?" threatened Wilkes, he was still in Death Eater clothes but without his mask they looked like ordinary black robes.

"We want Avery," growled Sirius. James held him back, "But don't worry, we'll be back for you two as well."

"On what grounds?" demanded Avery.

"I'm going to kill you," threatened Sirius his wand still drawn and bobbing in front of Avery's face.

"There's no need for wands," said Remus gently holding Sirius' arm and pushing it down. "Don't do anything you'll regret," he cautioned.

"I won't regret it. This bastard murdered my brother."

Avery had the audacity to smirk.

"We just want to ask a few questions. In private," Remus said politely and shot Avery a meaningful look.

"I have nothing to say," Avery said softly settling back at the table, the others still standing en guard, wands drawn.

The group was interrupted as a small man Apparated into the pub. He fell beside the table with a thud.

"Marcus?" Wilkes asked kneeling next to the young Slytherin. The group had turned and Avery took this to throw a punch at Sirius. The two fell to the floor in a brawl. Both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors were shouting and trying to pull one from the other. Suddenly Avery's arm burned and he rolled away from Sirius and looked to the Slytherins who seemed to be facing the same predicament.

"Please guys, it is Severus. He is in big trouble," Marcus squealed.

Suddenly realizing that they were going to make an escape James pulled out his wand. Peter stumbled into him giving the three Slytherin's the time to Dissapparate.

"Sorry James," Peter cried.

"Damn!" cursed Sirius, cautiously touching his face to examine the damage.

"You didn't really expect him to talk did you?" asked James.

"He killed him James, I know he did," said Sirius his voice filled with pain, "I should have just cursed him!"

"What would that have achieved?" asked Remus rubbing Sirius' back. Sirius was still in grief – the rumor was his brother Regulas had been slaughtered.

Suddenly Sirius started laughing maniacally and the group shot each other worried looks. Sirius was laughing and crying at the same time and the people who had stayed to watch the confrontation backed away.

"Sirius…." James asked quietly, kneeling and holding the man's hands in front of him. Sirius was not quite himself.

He continued laughing till he was gasping rapidly for air.

With a manic grin he wheezed, "Snape is in trouble!"

Voldemort contemplated the information as others appeared in staggered intervals bloodied from battle. Slowly the guards from the camp were reforming around Voldemort. Severus wondered if they had seen anything, heard anything, and for a moment he wished that he had of drunk the poison. He was foolish to think he would get away with this and the death Voldemort had planned for traitors would be insufferable. Everything slowed down, he felt his life hanging by a thread, it was a surreal out of body experience.

"I killed an Auror," exclaimed one guard.

"I killed two," argued another. The group was rowdy and angry.

"Quiet!" Voldemort barked. "We have a traitor! Do you know the punishment for traitors?"

"_Crucio_," he cried and the circle fell in pain. This time Severus was also one to join them. Some tried to speak in protest but mostly there was screaming. Severus was the first to get up dusting himself off quickly.

"Who is missing?" he asked the group.

"Dolohov," called one.

"Blair was murdered," Voldemort answered, "his death will be avenged, he was one of my favoured loyal servants."

Severus held his breath but nobody contradicted the Dark Lord. His secret was safe. A few other names were called and confirmed missing or dead. Voldemort nodded slowly obviously processing the information for later.

"Get out of my sight."

"Severus, wait." A small man lingered for a while trying to eavesdrop but quickly disappeared when he saw Voldemort's eyes flashing.

"You're lucky I don't remove you from the Silver Circle!" Voldemort growled. Severus tried to look scolded and hide his relief at the same time.

"My Lord," Severus muttered bowing to Voldemort's feet. The Dark Lord's anger ebbed as he reassessed the situation.

"Well, what to do with you? You have been very loyal Severus, and for that I am willing to allow you to continue in my service. I have a new task for you," Voldemort whispered quietly.

"Anything, my lord," Severus said looking up to the Dark Lord. Voldemort's face was shaped with skin like plastic. He looked unnatural and his eyes were flickering a dull red as he thought.

"We have spies amongst us. And despite our efforts we fail to get closer to our goal because of that fool Dumbledore," Voldemort said thinking aloud something he would only do infront of those from the Silver circle.

"My little Severus," Voldemort smiled, "I would like you to become _our_ spy and pay your friend Dumbledore a visit."

"Surely he will not fall for that," Severus asked. Voldemort looked down on him as if thinking about punishment for defiance but Severus flickered in fear and this amused the Dark Lord.

"Go to him, I understand the two of you share a secret, you are smart Severus, surely you can think of a way."

Severus' brow furrowed in confusion. He had in the darkest and most unnerving hour of his life seen a way out. A way he could live with. He had been offered his shot at redemption and a cover for it.

Severus had decided. His choice was final, it was not about Lallie anymore. It couldn't be. This was his decision and he bowed his head closely to the ground to hide his relief.

"You will be pleasantly surprised, my Lord," Severus whispered at the Dark Lord's feet, as the Dark Lord quietly Dissapparated.

Severus was still on the ground when his high school friends appeared before him. Drunk and roudy they cheered loudly.

"We thought you were a goner!" Ivan shouted as the others choursed agreement.

Turning from the group Severus whispered, "I am."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_Hogwarts, late morning January 28th, 1982_

Severus ran across the Hogwarts grounds adrenaline pumping through him. His heart was still pounding rapidly from the raid at the Longbottoms. He hoped that Dumbledore had returned as he fumbled his way to the Headmasters office. Rounding the corner he saw the old headmaster embracing another man. Severus stopped and drew back in the shadows; not prepared to interrupt such an intimate moment.

"If you ever want a job here," Dumbledore offered the man.

"No," Remus shook his head. "You have already done so much for me Professor."

Severus recognised the voice and peered from his hiding place. Remus looked worse for wear, his friends murdered, or in Azkaban. Severus felt uncertain for a moment, _was it pity?_ He narrowed his eyes at the werewolf as he gathered himself together and he walked confidently around the corner.

"Headmaster," he said and cast a meaningful look at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded and then gathered Remus in another big hug holding the younger man who gasped deeply as if holding back tears and fiercely hugged him back. Severus felt nervous watching their display of affection, Dumbledore had never embraced him like that, not even after Lallie. Severus cursed himself for thinking of her and concentrated on keeping his face covered in its usual blank mask. Such displays of affection were even more unnerving after his evening activites.

"Stay here tonight," Dumbledore said to Remus once they had broken, "go see Pomfrey. Don't forget we are always here to help you, I'm just so glad I found you."

Remus nodded, thanking the headmaster, Severus spied the thin scars on Remus' wrist and arms, they glistered.

The Headmaster smiled his blue eyes with their usual twinkle taking the battered hands in his arms, "No need Remus, now off with you, up to Pomfrey. I'll come and see you tomorrow."

Once Remus had left, Severus and Dumbledore entered the Headmasters office. The walk up the stairs was a silent one and Severus took his chair in front of the Headmasters desk before either spoke.

"Poor Remus," Dumbledore sighed. "The war has been difficult for all of us… but for Remus, after the war with his friends gone, his changes have become more violent and brutal. Perhaps his loss haunts him even then… I have brought him here for a while to see what Pomfrey can do. Perhaps there is a potion?"

Severus nodded silently, refusing to think of the werewolf, he could tell that Dumbledore was reaching to him. He snapped his mind shut, refusing to show Dumbledore the feelings of hesitation that welled in the pit of his stomach.

"There has been an incident," Severus murmured, launching straight to the point.

Dumbledore paused and a chocolate frog bounced off his desk. Severus launched into a relay of the night's events. Dumbledore was initially shocked but listened carefully to Severus' descriptions. Severus' voice took on a lecturing monotone he used with his students to keep himself distant. He didn't omit his presence, only his use of the curse.

"……I believe the group are at the Lestranges home." He finished and hung his head.

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, "you did all you could."

"I let you down again," Severus spoke the words sounding foreign his head was full of smoke.

"We're not infallible," Dumbledore said, "you did all you could. Severus, it is not always easy to do the right thing."

"I don't like making mistakes Headmaster."

"Mistakes can be made," the headmaster said meaningfully, "and I believe in second chances."

"It'll be your downfall," Severus said kindly. Dumbledore just laughed and smiled.

Severus got up to leave, his eyes stung from lack of sleep. "Goodnight Headmaster."

"Goodnight Severus."

_Crash!_

Severus woke quickly, his breath was already short as if he had been running instead of sleeping. In his haste he had knocked over the water glass beside his bed and it's crash shocked him further. He had his wand in his hand and was unsure why. Severus spent a few minutes looking around his empty dungeon before he lowered his raised wand. He could hear screaming in his head. He hadn't had nightmares like these since before Lallie.

He tried to settle back to sleep but couldn't get comfortable. Every position was unbearable like he was sleeping on stone instead of cushion. After an hour of turning he got up and stalked his dungeons, it was nearing lunch, he wondered if he should appear upstairs although Dumbledore must have cancelled his classes.

Guilt was keeping him awake, and he twitched compulsively.

_I might as well make myself useful_, he thought dragging himself up as he headed to his private workshop. The gentle sounds of a bubbling cauldron and the familiar motion of potion making lulled him gently. He looked around the workroom and decided what he should do.

The corridor was full of noisy students. Groups were huddled together crying, some angry, some confused. Severus had emerged near dinnertime and strode down the corridor.

"What's happening?" he demanded of the nearest Slytherin.

"The Longbottoms were attacked by Death Eaters, Sir. It was in the Prophet. Dumbledore's been called away."

Severus nodded and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. The Longbottoms, decorated Aurors, the evening news. The name haunted him as he swept toward the Great Hall. It was nearing lunchtime and there were students about. Wanting to be alone Severus turned and went down to the kitchens.

Minerva was already there. She turned around clutching a glass of water; her free hand clenching and unclenching nervously. Her face was red and blotchy as if she had been crying and her tight bun had frissy stands falling across her face. For a moment Severus realized this was the only time he had ever seen her. Really seen her.

"My God Severus," she wept when she saw him, "have you heard about the attack?"

He nodded, unaccustomed to his teacher being so out of control.

"I taught them," she whispered, "such good people."

Minerva reached for Severus and cried on his shoulder. Severus stood rigid at the contact, only yesterday this teacher was accusing him of being involved in Dark Activities. And today she held him as if she might break.

"Dreadful news," he muttered. Once she had regained control she stood before him wiping her face.

"Here." Severus handed her his handkerchief.

"Sorry, I'm just in shock, I can't believe it… just when we were rebuilding… just when we thought we were safe. The whole family was cast with the unforgivables, so much so they've been driven mad. Can you even imagine such torture?"

"Surely not the whole family, the son was alright wasn't he?" Severus asked.

Minerva drew back and looked at him. Severus realised his mistake.

"How do you know..." she began shaking uncontrollably as her mind worked faster than she was able to put into words, she hadn't seen him all morning, his late meetings, cold demeanor, black soulless eyes.

"How do you know," she demanded. "They never reported Neville, Oh Severus what have you done!"

"Dumbledore told me," he said quickly.

"But you've just arrived," she reasoned, "and Dumbledore's not here."

She lunged at him and started hitting him in an irrational display of emotion from the usually reserved transfiguration mistress.

"Tell me!" she cried in anger.

"Tell me what you've done!"

"I tried," Severus murmured but she wasn't listening. She drew back from the man her worst fears confirmed. Her eyes blazed with anger and power.

"You didn't try fucking hard enough!"


	21. Chapter Twenty

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_Later that evening, August 1st 1980_

Severus stood on the outskirts of the perimeter. He looked at the camp or what was left of it. Hidden in the bushes, he looked out into the grounds where the Aurors and Mediwitches had set up. It was busy with activity, people looking for family members, patients being treated for starvation and injuries that occurred in testing, constant portkey exits and arrivals.

There was one man in charge though. He stood up the front questioning everyone on the sight. Severus recognised the man. Rockwood, the Death Eater spy in charge of the Department of Mysteries, was in charge of clearing up the camp. Severus snorted as he realised that there was the possibility of him never being named in this, he could erase this from his life forever.

Other marks wouldn't be so easy to remove.

There was only one person he had come to find and he saw her through the trees, sitting on a makeshift hospital bed in loose bandages.

"Lallie," he whispered creeping up closer to the scene.

Her head spun looking for the voice. Slowly she got up and made her way to the bushes. Standing there as if surveying the view she spied him and smiled.

"You stopped this," she whispered, "thank you."

"Don't thank me, I don't deserve that. It was you who did this."

"Of course you deserve thanks," she smiled, "after all, you came back."

Severus smiled nervously, wanting to reach out to her.

"Come on," Lallie coaxed. "I know somewhere safe we can go. Are you ready?"

Severus nodded and Lallie moved closer to him.

"Well then, take this," and she held out an old shoe. Severus grabbed one side of it and Lallie held onto the other. Looking into her clear blue eyes Severus was unsure if he smiled before he was jolted by the familiar lurch.

The Order of Phoenix was a group of individuals organised by Albus Dumbledore to fight against Lord Voldemort. Lallie was a member and had brought Severus to their headquarters. Heads turned as the dark man walked through the corridors of the house in Godric's Hollow. The house was small looking from the outside but far larger inside.

They came into a large circular room where six or seven people were rushing about talking and yelling orders. It was the hull, setup like an army intelligence room, flashing maps were strewn up over the dark walls and fires were lit with people talking. Papers were strewn across a huge desk where Albus Dumbledore himself sat. People were talking to the old wizard and owls fluttered to his table.

When Severus stepped into the room he heard an alarm of an insane whistling and suddenly Severus gasped and choked. He couldn't breath.

The noise caused everyone to stop what they were doing. They looked at him as he grew red faced and fell onto the floor. Lallie spun around and looked down to him, her face etched in worry. The members present all drew their wands.

"Uncle Albus," Lallie called, the fear still resounding in her voice.

Albus stood, his eyes calculating and cautious, as he waved his wand. Severus collapsed on the ground gasping for air.

Dumbledore suddenly crossed the room with the speed of a younger man. Severus kept pulling ragged breaths trying to restore the oxygen to his brain. Dumbledore and Lallie were clutching each other while Severus lay on the floor. He could see only their feet as a wand was thrust into his adams apple.

"Choking Charm," said a familiar bossy voice, "only works on Death Eaters!"

Severus looked up and into the eyes of James Potter. He was overwhelmed with second thoughts.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, pushing down James wand and helping him to his feet. The old man was crying freely now, his familiar blue eyes twinkling happily from beyond a pool of tears, "You saved her."

"He's saved us all," Lallie said proudly pushing James back. This made Severus very happy.

"Come, come," said Dumbledore pulling him into a private room and closing the door after him leaving the rest of the Order with shocked looks on their faces. This room was small, set up like a nursery with light streaming through a stain glass window. The dust was floating in the light gently and Dumbledore magiced three chairs for them to sit on.

Dumbledore grew serious as Lallie whispered to him. Severus sat uncomfortably beside them.

"You saved her," he stated matter of factly.

"She saved me," Severus replied, and the old man chuckled.

"Lallie has that effect on everyone. She tells me that I can trust you, is that so Severus?"

"No," he answered, and Dumbledore smiled.

"You have the mark?"

"Yes, I got it when I was 17."

"You had it at Hogwarts?" the old man asked nervously, and for the first time since being reunited with Lallie tremendously sad.

"Yes," Severus replied.

"You were young when you made that mistake. But now, Severus are you prepared to make a decision? Lallie wants me to help you. I wonder what you think?"

Severus was shocked by the honesty of the question. There was no anger, no denial, no fear in Dumbledore's eyes now, simply a question.

_How far can I trust this man who takes my confessional?_ The man before him was blindsighted by nobility. Severus closed his eyes in agony, he had realized his mistake and it had already cost him dearly. He had still had so much anger but now it was directed internally instead of at others he thought were to blame.

Also there were his feelings. His feelings for Lallie. Feelings he already knew he would die for.

He opened his eyes and gazed into the deep piercing stare. Then he stood alone to make his confession, before judge, jury and his own soul. He stood like a lone tree ravaged by a storm on a hilltop.

"I think I can admit when I was wrong… I don't deserve your help nor do I want it," Severus said directly and Lallie worried herself beside him. "But, I will help you. I have a debt that I can never repay but I will try with every essence of my being. We can defeat him."

Dumbledore just gazed at him distantly for a minute.

"Welcome back to us child," the old man whispered.

Severus' position in the Death Eaters was higher than they had ever been able to reach and his confessions, mixed with gentle questions, revealed everything he knew about Lord Voldemort.

They must have talked for hours, houseelves had come in and left food and gone. Lallie had drifted into an uneasy sleep but Severus just kept on talking. He was surprised at how much they didn't know, at how much was relevant. From the way they recruited to training and actions on raids. Dumbledore nodded and asked questions when he needed clarification all the time his eyes were gentle as if understanding Severus pain.

As if he shouldn't feel guilty for having twinges of regret when he said the names of his friends and mentors, exposing them as Death Eaters.

After coming to a close he took deep breaths to steady himself. While Severus hadn't gone into details of his actions he hadn't skimmed over them either. "I killed the McKinnion's" he had said midway through the speech, however he didn't pause for a response, he was not surrendering.

When the questions were drawing to a close Severus began to worry about his next actions. He felt the old man probing the edges of his mind trying to determine whether Severus was telling the truth. Dumbledore had still made no offer to help him and Severus knew he had to reveal his latest assignment even though it might cast doubt on his position.

"My latest assignment is to get close to you. I am to use any means to gain your trust, the Dark Lord has been teaching me Occlumency."

Dumbledore stirred a little at that, but Lallie did not let go of his hand.

"You have been occuluding against me?"

"No."

"But you could have?"

"Yes. I have been using the art against the Dark Lord should he suspect my involvement in the release of prisoners, or my plans for turning against him. You see, I am in a very unique position."

The old man looked resigned. He knew what Severus was going to suggest. He looked at the young man before him, still shaking from the honest confessions of murder and torture, and thought of the merits and demerits of his offer.

A spy.

"I am convinced perhaps that I can make a difference and then, after it is over, then you can send me to the Dementors."

Dumbledore didn't know how he could justify the boys return to the dark when they had only just got him back. How would Lallie who was slightly shocked by Severus' offer ever forgive him for returning her rescuer to Voldemort. It was Severus resolve that settled it, for in that mans eyes there would be no other way.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

_Severus' Quarters, January 30th 1982_

Severus was stood shattered in the hallway as Minerva turned and fled as if he were a monster. He probably was. The silhouette he cast down the dungeon was defiantly violent and grave enough.

He entered his rooms. Walking silently into his bedroom on autopilot he collapsed on the bed. He felt as if his body lay broken in a dry sandbed just waiting for the crows to make meal of him.

Again dark thoughts haunted his memory. Faces of victims spread through him like a cancer. Ebbing away at his life force. He could feel the barriers shaking, the mountains quaking as a flood rushed over him. He was grieving as he fell to the floor in gut wrenching sobs.

"You didn't try fucking hard enough!"

He heard it still, the ice maiden he had called her in his school days - for she never allowed tomfoolery in her classes. She was always so composed, it's funny how you never consider that your teachers were merely human.

That was Severus' folly, the greatest teacher of all, merely human. And oh, the things Lord Voldemort had taught him. Had he even tried? Had he truly enjoyed seeking revenge for his young foolish friend's deaths? Friends he had given to the Aurors, in trust.

His gasps were louder now and contained a fierce harshness. Alone in his room he wept, loudly and unassuming. Were anyone have been watching they would have seen the strong potion professor quivering in a fear from himself. The tears tasted salty and he fought to breathe as his nose ran down his face.

Shortly the sun had begun to rise and he realized that in a few hours he would have to begin teaching. He had spent the night in grief and terror and the thought of every leaving the room terrified him.

Pulling himself up from the floor he wiped his nose gently and walked to his labroom. His change in mood was alarming. Even his breathing was returning to normal, the breathes shallow but steady.

The potion he was working on last night still simmered in the cauldron. He turned it off angrily. He wouldn't need it now. He snorted at his foolishness, had he thought for a moment that a potion would repay a lifetime of injustice. Did he think that now it was over he could ever be redeemed? His usefulness was over, now only he remained, and with events like the Longbottoms he was proving that without Lallie he would never be redeemed. Walking over to the draw where he kept the poisons he pulled it open hungrily.

Pushing them aside he found a shining metal blade. He wrapped his long pale fingers around it tenderly. Knifes were such a better way to end it. Such a muggle way - Lord Voldemort could chew on that he thought angrily. He held the knife to his chest like he was cradling a baby as he walked into the bathroom.

In these calm odd moments he was thinking strange thoughts, he was glad he had arranged the lesson plans in advance as it would be easy for someone to take over, where should he stand so he wouldn't bleed over the carpet...

The bathroom was small so he sat on the floor beside the bath, over a drain, examining the silver blade carefully.

Steadying himself he raised his sleeve. He was confronted with the Dark Mark, it had been fading since the Potter child put and end to him but it would never really be gone.

_Look what I have been driven too, and I'm even doing it the Muggle way._

He thought of Lallie, of his promise to her.

_But, what do promises mean now? When she has left? And more importantly, what do promises mean from me?_

The cuts weren't rough and desperate like his emotions earlier. His mood had changed as swiftly as before and he pushed the knife onto the skin slowly. He watched as the silver blade push onto the skin without piercing it. His skin stretched and cradled the knife like a dragonfly dancing on water. He traced the pattern on his Dark Mark trying to prick the skin yet still afraid. It grew red and finally pierced, spots of red blood exposed. The blood was springing on the skin - at first gently, like raindrops - then he started scratching with the knife wildly. He grunted and pushed down hard - the blade dropping into the flesh. Pulling the blade up with more anger and fierocity he sliced his arms. It didn't seem to hurt at all, even though this time he knew he would reach the bone.

The blood pooled around him as he dropped the knife and used his fingers to gouge and scratch at the flesh that was the bloodied mark. It was then that the pain came. It shot through him like tendrils of fire. His eyelids fluttered as if he were climaxing.

Minerva McGoungall stood framed in the bathroom doorway.

Severus had collapsed on the floor the blood slowly covering the tiles, licking its way to the edges of the room. His head rocked back unsupported, his mouth open and drooling. The rest of his body was covered in blood. Minerva stood too shocked to move, her eyes wide with fear. She fidgeted for a moment watching the scene unravel before her, recalling her angry outburst earlier she cried out in fear.

"Severus," she cried dropping to the floor. Her robes covered in his blood as she lifted his arm up to stop the blood flow whispering charms to heal the deep cuts. The fear increased her power and the skin pulled taught as if never broken. But the blood, it was everywhere, he had lost so much blood, Minerva needed to get him to Madame Pomfrey. She tried to move him but his head suddenly snapped up as he fixed her with a tempestuous gaze.

"Leave me," he ordered.

"Come Severus, please, you're bleeding."

Severus rolled his eyes, "observant aren't we. You're always watching, always watching."

"What?" she begged confusedly still panicking.

"My. Little. Tabby," Severus spat slowly as his eyes faded in and out of focus. His heavy lids falling over the dark eyes making him look psychopathic.

"Stop it," Minerva snapped, "stop doing this, let me get Madame Pomfrey." Minerva quickly jumped up her knees dripping with red blood. Severus grabbed her ankle.

"Leave me," he said again, "I am a monster."

She glanced down to the exposed arm that reached for her ankle. Minerva's quick repairs had repaired the skin with a taught freshness and the Dark Mark glistered on the pale skin splashed ornamentally with blood.

Minerva stared at the insignia on Severus's arm as if questioning its reality. She did not draw away from it. Did not recoil in fear or disgust. She did nothing Severus could have expected. Instead she did something completely unexpected. She grabbed Severus' forearm, covering the mark with her hand, her soft skin against Severus' scars as she fell back down beside him.

"You are not a monster," she whispered, into his ebony hair pulling his lanky body into her embrace, "it's not your fault."

"I didn't mean it, but that's no excuse is it? Please…please just leave, you can't ever understand."

Minerva cast Severus one of her classic teacher gazes as she sat herself comfortably in the blood on Severus bathroom floor confident he would be okay she summoned a strengthening potion she was sure he would have nearby.

"Here," she said orderly corking the vial and pushing the potion down his throat. She straightened him up so he was propped against the bathtub. She folded her legs underneath her and placed her hands clasped together on her lap.

"Not understand?" she began raising an eyebrow, "I assume you were alone in the battle against Voldemort? Well Severus," she stated firmly straightening herself up, "you are not the only one affected by this war. Let me tell you about a young girl who thought she'd found her true love."

Severus looked up at her curiously.

"The man's name," she whispered, "was Tom Riddle."


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

_Rosier Manor, August 23rd 1981_

Lallie and Severus sat crouched in dark bushes outside the Rosier Manor. Severus was sure that Voldemort was meeting here this shady eve. He usually stated that he was to go on missions alone and fiercely objected to Lallie's company, however, she like her annoying relatives, namely one Albus Dumbledore, had a way of getting what they wanted.

"Shh," he whispered and glared menacingly, even though she had not made a sound. The last months, almost a year, had been dangerous yet he had loved every minute of it.

Lallie stifled a giggle, and Severus continued to scowl warningly. He had effectively got the two of them right up to the house, a feat no Auror could do undetected. Fortunately Severus knew the Rosier's wards and passwords. The Dark Lord often met in the houses of different Death Eaters, to ensure security and keep everyone out of the loop, bits and pieces of information scattered so broadly it was a difficult task for Severus to make much sense of it. Fortunately, being in the inner circle meant Severus was privy to all of the larger plans, Voldemort recent reign had been shaky and he was suspecting a spy, Severus however was unblemished in the man's red slit eyes.

"Of course Rissum," he heard the Dark Lord hiss, he sounded angry which, was not a good sign.

"My Lord," Rissum began, "there is no threat to your reign. We stand together as the purest of bloods, who dares to confront us, what power lies in the hands of mudbloods and muggles!"

"Once again you're right, but this warning shall be a mark of my ultimate power. I have improved above and beyond any wizard in my search for eternal life, and you Rissum, and your family will be rewarded……."

Voldemort continued to drone about the pureness of blood and his almighty power. Lallie however began to mime Voldemort her mouth open and closing like a fish and head wobbling about.

"Shhh," Severus said again as he turned his focus from the Rosiers to Lallie. She continued in some bane until Severus features softened into a rare smile. He pulled her closely and kissed her.

"There," he whispered, "that stopped you. Now please listen." And he turned his attentions back to the Rosier drawing room.

"But he goes on for hours," she whined quietly.

"We need to know what this warning is, it's probably about the prophecy."

The people inside however noticed nothing and Voldemort continued to pace the room while Rissum looked on in rapt attention and Ivan stood near to the door. Severus would not admit that he was entertained, it was true that the Dark Lord was known for his long diatribes and passionate soliloquies. Severus used this time to collect his thoughts, assess his surroundings, and to shift his weight from one leg to the other as the crouching was uncomfortable. The first month of spying Severus had been terrified and then when the prophecy was said and Severus was told to report some of it back to the Dark Lord the stakes were thrown even higher. The war was intensifying, yet spying, it seemed, was a second nature to the Slytherin - creeping without making a sound, keen awareness of his surroundings, reading people and plans. Lord Voldemort was difficult to predict, to trace, and to follow but Severus almost enjoyed the challenge.

"…..And so the threat on my reign is merely the words of a fraudulent mystic." Voldemort finished firmly.

Severus leant forward keenly picking up on the new information.

"I completely agree," said Rosier gruffly.

"However," began Voldemort again, "we can't let the opportunity to show up that old fool go to waste and there is no doubt that the Potters have always stood firmly against us."

"Tis true," nodded Evan coming further into the room.

"And so, I shall kill them, make mess of their bodies, including the childs," Voldemort ordered, "then we can prove how much of that silly prophecy is true. Whatever this child is supposed to do it won't be able too, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," grinned Ivan his hatred for the Potters clear in his voice, "we can get Severus to help us, he has longed for James Potter to get his comeuppance!"

"You will not!" Voldemort growled, his anger filling the room like a dark mist. Both Lallie and Severus stopped breathing, was Severus suspected?

Ivan paled and Rissum shot his son a frightful glare.

"We will just keep this business a secret," Voldemort said calmly, "it's not wise to bandy this information about. Now Rissum, how many others were in the pub that night?"

"Just the barkeep, Julius Fudge and Severus of course," Rissum answered smoothly.

"I want Julius alive, perhaps he caught the end of this feeble prophecy," Voldemort said quietly.

"Ivan," directed Rissum, "you're friends with Julius are you not?"

"We went to school together," Ivan answered.

"Go, get him," Rissum said and Ivan quickly left the room. Severus and Lallie pushed themselves closer to the house as the man walked past them still putting on his cloak and pulling at his mask as he left the wards to Disapparate.

"Now, My Lord, would you care for some dinner?"

Rissum and Voldemort left into the kitchen.

"Come on," said Severus as he pulled Lallie from the ground. The two crept quickly across the lawn and outside the wards. In the shelter of the trees they found it safe to talk.

"We'll never beat him to Julius," Lallie said.

"We can try," said Severus preparing himself to Apparate.

"No, I've seen it," she said quietly.

"Oh," was all he said in response.

"So the Dark Lord is taking this prophecy seriously?" Severus asked.

"I guess," Lallie said. "Although I don't believe that Sybil… well, her powers were absent when I assessed her… But that doesn't mean that she can't now…."

Lallie became quiet, thinking things through quickly. Then it was true. She was dying. The powers of fortune and future are extremely rare and often scorned by witches and wizards. In fact, Lallie was the first Seer after Cassandra the most famous Seer of the century. It was rare that two seers ever existed at the same time.

Dumbledore must know she was dying, she bit her lip nervously. She had tried to keep it a secret. Dolohov's curse would take her eventually and she had seen no cure for it. She feared for Severus, the curse, or her fading powers, it had made his future appear dark and bleak. She would no longer read him.

Severus was battling his own emotions. The Potters, the bane of his existence, he wanted them to come to harm. The desire was unleashed within him like it had done when he realized the meaning of the prophecy. He quickly returned himself to the current situation.

"We must away to Headquarters," Lallie said beginning a walk through the forest, "we shouldn't Dissapparate just yet in case they are monitoring the area, they will know we were here."

Severus nodded in agreement and the two spent the night clambering through the woods until they came to a road.

They were mainly quiet with their own thoughts. Lallie's head was throbbing, she didn't know if she was actually hurting or if the news of Sybil's prophecy had made her anxious.

"Your nose is bleeding," Severus said suddenly as they came to a road and Lallie's face was cast in lamplight.

He stopped and pulled out a tissue handing it to her. She smiled wearily her blue eyes staring straight through him. Severus shuddered, his mind drawn into her by the intimate contact.

He held onto her tightly and she smiled wearily as they Dissapparated.

Knowing Severus was like knowing a rainbow. He was so beautiful, yet so unreachable and born from such darkness.

After meeting with Dumbledore to tell him of their expedition they Apparated back to the Snapes empty house. His father and mother had died during his high school years and he had been forced to go to his Grandparents for the holidays. This house never felt like a home anyway, and his Grandparents certainly weren't accommodating.

Severus and Lallie shared the main bedroom and for once he wasn't haunted in the rooms of the old muggle house. He stroked her hair as he spoke to her.

"The Dark Lord saw me," Severus said by way of explanation as if they were amidst a conversation, "he wanted me. No one had ever looked upon me with eyes like his. I was always ignored, then bullied…certainly never respected. And there he was, the master, heir of Slytherin and he respected me, he saw my power, my intelligence, my passion! He wanted to nurture it and grow it. He wanted to teach me things, show me the world, he offered it to me."

"But the world had already been offered to you Severus, and offered again," Lallie whispered. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?" she asked.

Severus shook his head solemnly.

Her voice took on a serious tone, one that she hardly ever shared, "I see power, intelligence, passion, these things ripple at the surface, but I also see you. The Dark Lord saw things he could use to his advantage. But you – Severus you're beautiful. You are everything and nothing, darkness and light, rain and sun, and you are good. You are my rainbow."

She kissed the tips of his fingers gently and Severus went quiet. He had never been spoken too with such passion and commitment, and he was certainly never called beautiful. It overwhelmed him.

"I'm not that either," he said resignedly – oh he wanted to believe it, "I'm not even sure about it myself, the Potters today…."

Severus tried to explain it, but Lallie just held up her hand to his lips and silenced him. Her eyes pierced him with honestly and her voice spoke without a waver.

"Rubbish, goodness is in everything you do, every meticulous gesture you make, you are beautiful Severus Snape and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

The pair sat in silence, and for a moment Severus thought he could trust her. No, he knew he could trust her. In this bedroom he had started to heal, some nights he was angry, some sad, some passionate, and always she would be there. Through the whole ordeal, they walked through his past, and dealt with the cruelties he faced in the present. He wondered what he had done to deserve such goodness.

"Never leave me," he begged, his voice catching in his throat. His face looked pale and desperate. Lallie gasped her eyes distant, she looked almost sad. Severus stared at her, his eyes deep and searching.

"Willingly I bound my life to you," she whispered as she bent over him for a kiss.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**Chapter Twenty Three – Losses  
**_Hogwarts, February 2nd 1982_

He listened to Minerva's story, clutching to her tale as a vice to lift him out of this unbearable depression.

And after she left him, her eyes doubtful and worried -

When the door closed behind her –

He found he was left with some motive to go on, a strength to move forward, yet emptier than he had ever been. These last months, the months since Lallie and the fall of Voldemort had left bitter. He had been promised comfort and healing – instead his self hatred still festered.

It was not something Lallie could do anyway. The mark that marred his flesh he could not be rid of, yet perhaps, as Minerva had shown him (she was Minerva to him now), he could start to heal himself. There were marks worn by everyone Voldemort had touched, not all of them on the skin.

He stopped sitting on the floor and stood, massaging his temples where he could feel a pressure headache coming on. The words, "suffering is a blessing" echoed through his thoughts and he wondered desperately where they had come from.

He was quite lost now and moved into the lab to look for distraction. He looked at the work station he had left angrily yesterday.

It had happened purely by accident. The potion had turned a bright silver colour. Severus smelt the potion carefully, and re-ignited the flames.

The potion, like fury, overheated - the chemicals sizzling together like angry lovers.

_Earlier_

Lucius paced his study. His looked proud, even when constricted to this short pacing. Finally, he came to a rest in the armchair beside his polished oak desk.

Everything was going swimmingly. The Aurors had gotten his anonymous information about the Crouch boy, and hadn't that been delightful. The young boy had been a vision in the courtroom. It hadn't taken long for rumors to start, (generated by Narcissa, she had her uses) the rumors that disgraced both Crouch Jnr and Snr.

It was perfect.

And now he just had to wait. An unnaturally dark black owl swept in his office window. Lucius in perfectly refined anticipation untied and unfolded the paper.

The headline was splattered across the front page.

CORNELIUS FUDGE GETS TOP JOB!

Lucius face twitched into a smirk. His ruby lips glistering as he set down the paper and leaned back in his chair.

_Later_

Lupin was shocked when he saw the dark stormy man enter the infirmary, even more so when he continued to walk up to him.

"Drink this."

"Ahh Severus," the headmaster smiled as the Potions Master walked into his office. "Do you have any more of that potion?"

Severus eyes flashed once with confusion. He was sure that the headmaster had called him into the office for another reason. The man knew everything that happened in this castle.

"How is...Lupin?"

"Remus retained his mind for the duration of the full moon. He was most surprised to wake up in the Shreiking Shack after a night curled up on the floor asleep. Severus, I am so proud!" Dumbledore smiled widely. Severus cheeks betrayed him and turned a soft pink.

"It was an accident."

"Pish posh. Severus, you are quite a remarkable man."

He nodded with a jerk of the head. "I will have more Augustinnion Vertias Secular Remification delivered tonight."

"You'll have to register it with the Ministry. This potion could be your break Severus. The new Minister has been appointed, changes are being made, Severus you will be able to do whatever you please."

_Free? _ While the Dark Lord was out there he would never be free. "Wait a minute, there's a new Minister?"

But, Dumbledore wasn't listening; he was crouched in the fireplace flooing the Ministry. Rather like a proud father after his child had first caught the snitch.

"It's called Wolfsbane! Yes I know, this is quite a discovery, perhaps if you let Sam know, he is in Magical Creatures office..."

"Headmaster, Wolfsbane is an herb. The name of my potion and the meaning of Augustinnion Vertias Secular Remification have a lot to do with its forming and finite purpose, I think..."

Dumbledore ignored him and Severus trailed off. The name wasn't important and he couldn't help but revel at the headmasters complements. Severus waited patiently while Dumbledore finished his conversation.

Finally the old man turned to smile at Severus.

"This is quite a discovery," Dumbledore stretched back in his seat, back sore from bending into the fire.

"It is nothing, it cannot compare to…."

Dumbledore's tone was sharp, "You will forgive yourself Severus. We have forgiven you, we have watched you go back to him time and time again. It killed Lallie to see you go but we understood you desire and forgave you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Well, forgive yourself not because you deserve it but because you need to move on."

Leaning back in his chair with a loud sigh the headmasters tone turned remarkably gentle.

"Oh Severus, you continue to amaze me. We are all vulnerable to evil. I have made mistakes, and I fear that one mistake of mine may have cost you your life."

Severus had no idea what mistake the old man was talking about. Dumbledore had put himself on the line more than once for Severus and despite his best efforts Severus had feelings for the old man as well. He knew that even with this potion he would not leave Hogwarts. As much as he had despised the idea, it had become his home.

"We are all vulnerable to evil." Severus stated – a simple affirmation he had understood what Dumbledore had said and he left the office with a swish of the cloak.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Chapter Twenty Four - Endings**

_Hogwarts Infirmary, 8th October 1981_

Severus barged through the door almost sending it off its hinges. Startling the new nurse, Madam Pomfrey, so that she dropped her tray. The silver clattered for a long time as Severus took three long strides and flung back the infirmary curtain.

Lallie lay on the bed her eyes closed peacefully. She was tucked in by crisp white sheets her hair falling around her like a halo. Dumbledore sat beside her, clutching a small hand, his eyes downcast and old fingers a contrast to her delicate soft skin.

"Severus," Dumbledore said looking up startled, "what are you doing here? The walls have eyes and ears, it is best you stay in the dungeons."

Severus shot Dumbledore a fierce glare. Sitting down on the other side of the bed he almost ripped her hand into his but faltered as he went to touch her skin, his hand trembling as he caught it in a gentle grasp. An emotion surged through his chest, he didn't recognize it at first and then with a shudder he knew it was fear.

"What happened," he asked, in a strained voice. Severus had heard that she had collapsed. He had almost been a spy for a year now, and it was one of the best years of his life. Lallie had been more affectionate lately, almost desperate, and he had long worked out what was coming, her illness, her secrets; but to know that his guess was correct was not a victory.

"Lallie is dying Severus," Dumbledore said gently, his blue eyes devoid of any sparkle.

At first Severus refused to believe. He didn't believe anyone. He yelled when the nurse came in. Nobody recognized the curse, and it seemed grow more and more painful.

Severus had been in denial for some time, her 'spells', tiredness and nose bleeds. It was too much for him to bear. He had spent the last days at her bedside reading though every dark art book he knew looking for an answer.

"Severus," she whispered.

"Lallie, it's okay."

Severus did not move from her side. He needed someone to blame, yet he found nothing, she was dying and that was it. The unfairness of it consumed him. Sometimes she would wake to smile at him, her eyes would flutter with effort as she recognised him. Severus would kiss her and sooth her gently, his voice in hushed tones.

Dumbledore came in often - the old man was tired and drawn. He had been fighting to protect the Potter's who barely seemed to escape the next attack. Dumbledore looked at Severus, a man who once struck fear had withered to nothing. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, he looked worse than the patient who in these last few days was almost serene.

Dumbledore was worried, for Severus, for Lallie, for the Potters. Severus had been working on gathering information to prevent them, but now he only stayed with Lallie. They had worked out that someone close to the Potters was also a spy yet had no clue as to who it was. Dumbledore knew that they couldn't find out who the spy was without Severus.

Yet, Severus had fought bitterly to save the man he hated, didn't he now deserve to spend these days with the dying woman he loved. Dumbledore wondered what his reaction would be if he asked him to leave her to fight. He sighed. He knew he could never ask that, that was his weakness; somehow over the last year working with the harsh embittered man he realized that he loved Severus too.

"I'll always be here for you Severus," the headmaster said.

Severus jerked his head, his eyes never leaving Lallie. Dumbledore sighed. He told Severus the Potters were going under a protection spell that evening.

As Dumbledore stood, he whispered a spell. The air around Severus and Lallie lightened. Severus looked up at the old man who bent over and kissed Lallie goodbye. Severus felt Lallie's heartbeat weaken under his thin fingers, but he would not give up. He gasped, suddenly more afraid than he had ever been in his life.

"Shhh," she soothed him, he hastily wiped his face, was she really there? The moments when she would talk were few. As Lallie felt death invade her body the struggle to move was difficult. "I am going somewhere beautiful."

Severus voice caught in his throat, his eyes misty and heart thumping violently against his chest.

"Ask if you can bring a friend."

She smiled and closed her eyes. Severus bit his lip until he could taste the blood in his mouth, and feel tears moving silently down his face.

He could think of nothing else to say. He wanted to scream - I need you! - I want you! - Don't leave me! He was a man who had lost his shadow and without a shadow he had no proof he existed at all. He reached for Lallie, he took her, held her, because she could prove that he was solid, she could see his good, see he wasn't some fantasy.

Severus held her slipping hand. "Without you," he whispered, "I am returned to the cloud of unknowing. The question is not what I am, but what I'll turn out to be and without you my love, I will be battling the undiscovered country of my mind alone."

"Oh Severus," she gasped her eyes glazing over like they had done back at the camp, "you're never alone."

It was the last thing Severus had expected.

She settled down her eyes closing and her breathe caught on a moist pouted lip.

"You will never be alone," she said and she took her last breath. "I will always be with you."

There was a flash of green light, and the sound of a baby cry.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**Chapter 25 – Back from the dead**

_Hogwarts Infirmary, October 31st 1981_

Lallie was warm. She was safe. And, for the first time in her life not haunted with visions of the future- for she was; both at this moment and forever, infinitely past and present. Lallie was at peace.

Severus felt her pulse stop.

It was a hiatus - a complete shocking absence of sound as if the whole world had disintegrated.

Then he was screaming. _Was this what it felt like to have a broken heart?_

It was an awful pain that soared through his body like chemical fire. It even tasted of dark magic. Then Severus realised it was his Dark Mark, the fire was burning inside his body - his mark flaring an angry red colour like it had the night it was created. Next, as quickly as it had begun the pain stopped. Shocked and frightened Severus sat in awe as he watched the mark on his arm slowly disappear.

_Ministry of Magic, October 31st 1981_

Blair Dolohov was pissed.

He assessed his surroundings and tried to get up. Not only did he have a splitting headache; he was a Death Eater, with a fading Dark Mark, stuck somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic. He had no idea how long he had been trapped as a paper weight but he certainly hadn't forgotten why.

The office he sat in had no windows; it was ominous, and from the papers on the desk Blair could tell, owned by the Death Eater Ministry Spy Rookwood. Blair slid around the table in pain and pulled himself up with some effort to sit in the man's chair. He flopped back, stretching his neck so the room echoed with thick pops.

His transformation had been painful. Snape wasn't that good at transfiguration and apparently not that good at finishing the job. Blair smirked and waited for the pock-faced Rookwood to return to his office.

_Graveyard, November 4th 1981_

Severus had not attended any celebrations. While people were filling the streets of Hogsmede and rejoicing the fall of the Dark Lord, Severus was preparing to attend a funeral. He hadn't wanted to go, he wanted to grieve for her by himself, but Dumbledore had insisted and by now Severus was used to following Dumbledore's orders. Lallie had no family left, save Dumbledore, but even in death she drew quite a crowd. Severus stood toward the back; he couldn't remember any of the words the preacher had spoken or the faces in the crowd who seemed to blur into one. It was only when Dumbledore approached him that he was able to pull himself together.

"Severus," Dumbledore said gently, "how are you coping?"

"Fine."

"And your mark?"

"It comes and goes. The Death Eaters are still using it; they say this means he is not really gone?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful, "It's possible. Come by my office tomorrow afternoon. We have much to discuss."

"Does anyone else know I'm here?" growled Dolohov.

"No," Algernon Rookwood answered firmly, closing the door behind him. Algernon lived in his parent's house; his parents had moved out long ago hoping that one day Algernon would use the large house for his family. It still remained empty.

"And Lucius?"

"He is busy at the trials. We have agreed on what to do should my position be jeopardised. I will be heading back to the ministry after I've given you your lunch."

Blair grimaced. He lay in the master bedroom forcing Rookwood to retreat to his childhood room. He was still in pain and couldn't manage to walk yet. It would be more bearable if he had a wand but as it was Algernon was taking good care of him. If anything the time in disabled isolation gave him time to think. And plot.

Snatching the food from Algernon, Dolohov stabbed into it roughly, smiling to himself. The type of smile that unnerved others and Algernon hurried to clear the room.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"No," Dolohov whispered, his mind far away. "There's nothing else. Thank you Rookwood."

Algernon shuddered and grabbed his wand before clambering down the stairs. He was preparing to apparate to the ministry when the sharp pain exploded in his chest. Lucius was calling him - his mark had burnt black. Without calling to Dolohov Rookwood hurried to his office.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**_Severus' Quarters, February 3rd 1982_**

Severus jolted awake. He had been dreaming of Lallie again, it was the third night this week. He listened to the dark for her voice but could only hear his own laboured breathing.

In the moment between sleep and awake, he could think about her without wishing that the world would swallow him whole. He could hear her in his dreams, whispering to him to be a better person, to fight, to protect, to love.

_I will_, Severus promised, _and I won't be alone._

Dumbledore had assembled the Order. They were sitting in the Headmasters Office in the hope that the missing spaces wouldn't be so noticeable in contrast to the cheerful red surroundings. Severus knew he wasn't the only one who felt the void, the empty spaces that threatened to suck the last Order members out of existence. Auror Moody who generally greeted Severus with distrust and animosity hadn't looked up since entering the room, Remus looked dreadful, he hadn't shaved for three days, looking more the monster than Severus had ever seen him and Minerva who had chosen her place next to Severus with a kind smile had looked human to him since the evening she had talked him back from the edge.

"Welcome," Dumbledore whispered to gather everyone's attention. "I think that we have caught the last of the Death Eaters. Although there was a sighting of Blair Dolohov recently I have some Aurors looking into it."

Severus started shaking, "Impossible."

"Of course some have managed to clear themselves with the ministry," Moody growled staring pointedly at Severus.

"Yes," agreed Dumbledore, "Malfoy for one I believe is causing trouble in the ministry although we have no proof. There is also the concern that Voldemort is not truly gone and while I myself have looked for him he will not make himself known until he again gains power."

"What can we do?" asked another Order member.

"We'll do what we always have. Stay diligent, stay alert and get ready for his return."

Severus left the office, his role as spy in tact and with the weighty understanding that his job and his life were not yet over.

He spent the afternoon in Hogsmede people watching and preparing himself for what was to come, like a muggle terrified by the threat of a storm Severus battened down the hatches and waited for his punishment to be over. Just like everybody else.

He walked back to the castle his head held high. He didn't feel the stormy eyes burning into his retreating back and didn't notice the quick swish of a cloak as someone disappeared at the Hogwarts border. And, it was just as well.


End file.
